


Shadows of Light

by Cullens_Khajiit



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up To No Good, Romance, Time Travel, i tried to keep most a/n's, repost from fanficnet, tomione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 17:55:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5014372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cullens_Khajiit/pseuds/Cullens_Khajiit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing is ever really set in stone, one choice can always make the difference in both settle things and the crucial. It was something that Hermione had to discover the hard way: there is never a right or wrong choice. Only multiple choices and what we do with them. What if one single choice of compassion and forgiveness could change the future. Hermione/Tom</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the world, or anything having to do with it for that matter. The only this in this that I own is the story and dialogue.
> 
> A/N: This is a work in progress and will hopefully be updated on a daily basis, at least. Any suggestions are more than welcome.
> 
> Eventual Hermione/Tom Riddle, but as will all story's in this pairing it will take time. :3

The cloud cover was almost complete, the sun making a valiant effort to break through only to be thwarted by the thick dust and smoke that blanketed the entirety of the Hogwarts grounds. The gloom seemed to suck all energy of those left in the castle. It was everyone's worst fear, and now that it had finally come to pass, even the light itself seemed to morn the passing of all hope.

There had to be something in the castle that would allow them to change the outcome. Anything that could offer them the option to get out of this horrible mess. She flew through the castle and made her way to the headmaster's office. If there was anything in this whole castle that could help them in this fight it would be in there.

The gargoyles that were guarding the door where completely destroyed, the once majestic images reduced to rubble in front of the now exposed stair case. without taking the time to mourn the destruction she climbed up the steps as quickly as her fatigued legs would take her. trying to desperately push back all of the stress and anguish that was lurking just on the outskirts of her mind. There would be plenty of time to break down once she was inevitably in the death eaters hands.

Glancing around the room, it struck her how much the war seemed to not touch the dear Dumbledore's most famous clutter. The portraits were all completely empty, the only sound being some slight chiming coming from the seemingly untouched items scattered around all of the tables. She marveled at the magical wards that the late head master must have put in place in order to protect his most treasured possessions from the destruction that waged unchecked outside.

Her frantic eyes moved over a cabinet that seemed to opening itself of its own accord in the corner. With cautious steps she made her way over to the now exposed shelving, allowing herself the hope that maybe the headmaster had stored something, anything that could help them. However, the only thing on all four shelves was a glistening Moldavite.

Hermione took a deep breath to brace herself, she didn't have time to be cautious with what might happen when she picked up the stone. They were long past the point of being careful in anything, the only thing left for any of them was desperation.

Her fingers gently bushed the cool rich green of the stones suffice, the power in the stone making her skin prickle. She closed her hand around its service and gasped. The office seemed to fall away, the sounds of war fading in her ears as if being pulled beneath the surface of a great ocean. She tried to pull in a shaky breath but the sensation of falling, of the world being pushed up as if she was within a massive maelstrom, put too much pressure on her chest.

Then just as suddenly as it began, the sensation was brought to a jarring end. Eyes still squeezed tightly shut, she tried to test her ability to move. A groan escaped unbidden from her throat as the agony of her joints after being exposed to such powerful magic caught up with her.

Her mind was blessedly blank for the moment, taking the time to place her thoughts back in a comprehensible order. There was some increasingly annoying sound getting closer to her that seemed to be bound and determined to stall her recovery. She squeezed her eyes closed more forcefully, willing whatever wanted to gift her with a splitting migraine to go away.

With a shaky breath, Hermione tried to roll onto her back, hoping the position would give some relief to her joints. But, before she could muster up the power to move herself she felt a warmth that was not her own moving over her prone frame. 'A spell,' she thought dazedly as the warmth brought much more relief to her abused form than shifting positions ever could.

With her breath coming more even and painless, she chanced an attempt at opening her eyes.

"My dear" said a voice from a great distance, "however did you have the misfortune of slamming into my floor, in quite a valiant manner I dare say."

Where there should have been panic and shock flooding through her system, there was only the since of over whelming relief as her gaze settled on the very much alive form of Albus Dumbledore.


	2. Shadows of Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The habit of looking to the future and thinking that the whole meaning of the present lies in what it will bring forth is a pernicious one. There can be no value in the whole unless there is value in the parts.
> 
> BERTRAND RUSSELL, Conquest of Happiness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

Dumbledore was every bit as eccentric as she remembered him. The vibrant robes, the unusual hats, the kind and gentle smile gracing his features. He was much younger than she remembered him however, although seeming just as timeless as ever. An unbidden smile tugged at Hermione's lips as she rested her eyes on the one man that could make all the worry and stress seem to evaporate into thin air with the offer of a lemon-drop.

"Headmaster, you have no idea how wonderful it is to see your face once again." She croaked out, the dust of battle still clogging up her lungs. With a few painful coughs, she looked back up to him only to be greeted with a troubled look on his face.

"My dear, I am not the headmaster although it honors me that you would address me as such."

He helped her up into a sitting position before offering her a glass of water that he conjured before them. His eyes took in her appearance briefly, his troubled expression becoming more pronounced.

"What is your name dear."

"My name?..." Her mind ground to a halt for a moment trying to figure out why he didn't remember her, "Hermione Granger sir... I'm a 6th year- well I was a 6th year before the war started. I'm not sure what I am now."

She rubbed a hand over her face, exhaustion threatening to catch up with her. Warmth in her other hand distracted her attention from the confusion that was starting to take over. The stone. It was still in her hand, but its power was no longer tangible. Almost as if throwing Hermione around was all that it could manage and had now turned to a dormant state.

She opened her hand and looked carefully at the stone. "Sir, is this... a resurrection stone? Or something else... The stores never mentioned that it threw you around before it showed you those that you have lost..." She muttered in a distracted voice.

"Miss Granger what year is it." Dumbledore said carefully, his eyes turning piercing in there intensity.

"19...97. Why..."

"Hmm..." He said quietly, getting up from his position of crouching next to her. He moved over to his desk with a distracted look on his face, picking up what looked like a news paper before returning to her side. "I think you will find that you did a bit more than 'being thrown around' as you put it."

Dumbledore handed her the paper, watching her intently. There on the front cover of the daily prophet.. or at least what looked vaguely like the daily prophet, was the year 1944 printed neatly on the cover.

Her brain seemed to shut down as she lifted her gaze from the cover of the news paper and started to take in the environment around her. He was quite right, this was not the headmaster's office at all, but instead one of the many teachers offices that she had visited in the years that she attended Hogwarts. The windows were covered, blocking out any natural light that may have been allowed by the time of day. Instead the room was lit by many different candles stationed around on tables and candelabras. All his small fascinating objects still littered the room in a haphazard manner, reflecting the candle light onto the ancient books that lined the book shelves that covered every inch of the walls.

"Your still a teacher."

"Indeed. Please, come, take a seat and tell me how you found yourself spectacularly thrown on my office floor child."

Hermione tested her legs first, gingerly, before slowly getting up and taking the offered seat in front of his desk. "Professor I'm sorry, I must have given you quite a shock." she winced, rubbing the back of her neck.

"That you did, but it is nothing for you to worry about. Would you like some tea? Lemon drop?"

She smiled to herself, remembering her previous wistfulness for his love for sweets. "Please."

"Now I know that, judging by your current state of appearance, that talking at length to an old man is the last thing that you would want to do but please."

Hermione took a sip of the warm spice tea, letting the liquid heal her parched throat and calming her weary muscles. She looked up from her cup at that young Dumbledore and took a deep breath, vaguely wondering how much of her story she should monitor for fear of how dangerous knowledge of the future could be, even in the hands of someone as well meaning as Dumbledore. Specifics were out, she couldn't give him too much detail but at least a general idea would seem sufficient. She rubbed her forehead wearily with her free hand before starting.

"I went into your old office in search of... something... anything I guess. Hope maybe. There is ... was a war waging and we were... everything was lost. So many were dead. We were desperate. I think I went there in hope that maybe I could find something to stop the eventual slaughter that would have come by nightfall."

"A war?"

"Yes. An extremely powerful Dark Lord had arisen, taking control of nearly all of Britain. There was only Hogwarts left standing and it was on its last legs." She paused for a moment before looking up into Dumbledore's serious yet calm eyes. "This probably sounds completely ridiculous."

"On the contrary dear, time travel is not unheard of." He said gently, some of the twinkle coming back into his eyes at his light joke. Hermione smiled in spite of herself.

"I'm sorry I'm being so vague-"

"No its quite alright, I understand why. How, may I ask, did you manage to find yourself here."

Hermione looked down at the stone that she had placed in her lap when she had rubbed her face and picked it up again to lay it on his desk before him. "I picked that up from one of your many cabinets and it... activated I guess when I closed my hand around it."

"Mm.." he muttered as he looked at it through his half moon spectacles for a moment. "A Moldavite crystal. I must confess that the property's of stones have always fascinated me, seems time didn't change much."

He pulled his wand and muttered a spell under his breath, watching intently as it glowed a soft white. "Dormant now, seems as if your adventure through time has taken all of the magic that was most likely stored in it completely." He rubbed his beard absent minded, as he seemed to sift through his thoughts. "Unfortunately there are no traces of the magic that was used on the stone so I can't determine what was used to change it. Just as well probably." He smiled and handed it back to her. "You can keep it dear, it is merely a trinket now, although a very pretty one."

Hermione picked it up again, the cool smooth service reflecting the light of the candles, revealing its natural beauty.

"I'm afraid I must inform you that while time traveling to the past is indeed not impossible, time travel into the future is, as of this specific time period."

She nodded absentmindedly, refusing to let her mind think about that comment and the emotions that it brought with it.

"It appears as if fate has given you another chance, if you are willing to accept it." He smiled kindly.

"Terrible things happen to those that meddle with time." She said in a empty voice, still not taking her eyes off of the stone.

"Yes that is the case with those that meddle with the intimidate past but this situation is a great deal different. The time gap is so great that you don't risk the chance of seeing yourself. Also any changes that are caused by your actions or presence in this time period will be so distanced from the future that you know, it will almost create, in a matter of speaking, an alternate timeline. I confess that my own studies on time travel are less than extensive but the basic principle is what is important."

Hermione felt as if the past three years of lack of sleep and stress were finally gaining the upper hand when she looked back into the gentle face of Dumbledore. "This isn't my time... I'm alone here... what will I do... I cant-"

"My dear, please be at peace. You can stay here of course, Hogwarts has always offered help to those in need such as yourself. I'm sure, between the two of us, that we can come up with something for you to do and you are never alone. If I understand it correctly, you already have had the pleasure of meeting my aquaitence before fate brought you to my quite dashing rug."

She smiled at him, appreciating his odd since of humor more than he knew.

"I'm afraid I can't quite take you to the hospital wing to get the much needed potions that i'm sure you would be more than happy to except quite yet. We will need to address a sort of cover story, for lack of a better term, for your sudden appearance here. I'm sure you understand why."

She nodded, turning to her tea that she had momentarily forgotten. He was right, there was still so much that they would have to go over before she could go out into the public eye. But the promise of having a plan seemed to give her a solid ground on which to stand. The kind of stability that she had long since lost with the start of the war as it swept over the wizarding world. She clung to it with all the passion of a starving man with the promise of food at last.

"In the mean time please wait here, I will get the potions that I can gather that you might need, and after a good nights rest we will discuss where we will go from here Miss Granger."

She nodded and relaxed back into the comfy chair as she watched him leave the office.

There was something so peaceful about Dumbledore's chronic untidiness that seemed to settle in her very soul, healing the desperation and panic that had been her constant companion for years. Once again, just being in his presence brought with it that feeling that everything was going to be alright. It had been so long since she had been able to relinquish control and let someone who was far wiser than her take care of things. She knew that she would have to face her grief eventually. Face the fact that she had left her friends to die alone without her. That she had abandoned everything in her desperation.

She closed her eyes for a moment, willing the tears away that were threatening to rise up against her.

Later, she told herself. She would have to deal with it later.

She willed herself to focus instead on the faint warmth that all the lit candles radiated, caressing her skin with all the gentleness and comfort of home. It had been so long since she had seen Hogwarts like this. Like it was meant to be. Like it was home.

Taking a deep breath she reopened her eyes and looked over herself. She really did look awful. Like she had been in a fight with a vacuum cleaner bag and lost. Her clothes were covered in the remains of the castle and dust of the battlefield. Not to mention her clothes themselves had seen better days. She really hoped that Dumbledore's hospitality extended to a time appropriate wardrobe. Preferably without holes and rips in them.

Running a grimy hand through her hair she forcefully sifted through her brain trying to remember anything about the 1940's that would help her. Unfortunately most of what she had learned had been in her early schooling before she had ever arrived at Hogwarts. She knew without a doubt that this time was already neck deep in two devastating wars. The muggle world war and her own wizarding worlds war with Gellert Grindelwald. Which put her right in the middle of the kind of environment that she had been trying to escape.

And last but not least, one thing that she was absolutely loath to admit, women were expected to be subservient in there role to men. Hermione sighed. That was one she was going to have to work on if she didn't want to completely blow her cover as being from this time period whether she agreed with it or not. But she grudgingly admitted to herself that it could be so much worse.

So very much.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What you see and what you hear depends a great deal on where you are standing. It also depends on what sort of person you are." ― C.S. Lewis, The Magician's Nephew

A soft click broke through Hermione's sleep clouded mind, bringing her back out of her blessedly dreamless rest. She struggled to throw off the lingering lethargy of sleep and slowly sat up with a groan from the very comfortable bed she was in.

"Oh wonderful timing, your awake. I trust that you slept well?" Dumbledore chirped from the small living quarters of the room he had sent her to.

"I'll be there in just a moment."

"Take you time dear, take your time. I'll just make some tea and-"

Shaking her head, Hermione got out of bed and pulled some of the clothes out of the bag that Dumbledore and brought to her the day before. She dressed quickly, pulling her hair back into a ponytail for the time being and went into the main living area to meet the cheerful transfiguration teacher.

"Ah, my dear its good to see you looking much more rested. I had the house elves bring up some breakfast for you and tea. After you have had something to eat we can get down to business."

She gave him a warm smile and helped herself while he proceeded to drown his tea in sugar. Yesterday they had decided to leave the discussions until after she had gotten some rest. He had graciously taken the liberty of setting up a room for her in the gryffindor tower, more of a small apartment than anything else, that she could stay in. Also providing her with a few sets of clothes so that she could properly get rid of the ones that she was wearing.

The room was cozy and simple, seeming to be a spare set of teachers quarters. There was really only the main room, bed room, and one small bath but it was more than Hermione could have asked for. It had all the charm and warmth of the gryffindor tower, it's fireplace casting a glow about the room that reminded Hermione of a different time in her life. An innocent time. She felt more at home here in this new environment then she had in years. She owed so much to Dumbledore, more than she would ever admit to his person.

She knew that here she was likely to find closure for all that had happened in the war. The atmosphere, the promise of a purpose, and the uncommonly kind eyes of Albus Dumbledore were like a life raft to her. So strange this twist of fate had given her a second chance, a chance at happiness that her generation should have had... before everything had gone so terribly wrong.

In an almost unconscious way, she vowed to herself that if she could make the most of this gift... then maybe, something... somehow, in the future... would change. Maybe things didn't have to end up the way that they did. Perhaps there was a chance that, like a pebble a crossed the surface of a crystal smooth lake, her small presence could set off a chain of events that could give her friends and there family's the peace and happiness they deserved.

It was a daunting concept to even consider, but it gave Hermione just a little flicker of hope that she could spare her loved ones so much pain and loss. One thing was absolutely certain, however. It was going to be the little things that she would focus on, and pray that the butterfly effect was as valid as its scientific arguments proved it to be.

"Now that you've had a proper meal," Dumbledore quipped pulling Hermione out of her musings. "I have spoken with Headmaster Dippet. I have a few propositions for you."

He leaned over the arm of his chair to retrieve a brief case that she had not noticed before. "From what little you said yesterday, I came to the conclusion that you haven't finished your magical education is this correct?"

She nodded, watching as he moved her empty plates out of the way to deposit a number of papers across its surface.

"I would be willing to take you on officially as an apprentice-" He held up his hand to silence the shocked exclamation that was already rising unbidden on her lips, "but be warned that it will be anything but easy. If you agree I will help you finish what you need to know in order to take your exams but I also have a rather selfish request to make as well. With the war coming ever closer to my doorstep, I find myself in need of someone who will be able to help me with handling trifle's such as grading papers from the younger students. You will be payed of course for this service, and in addition for your help in this matter I can offer you advanced magical studies. I encourage you to explore all possible magical routes that you might consider taking above normal schooling level. Tomorrow I will assess where you are in your magical training and if your level is high enough, we will begin advanced spell work studies."

He paused for a moment, seeming to struggle with a less than pleasant thought that had crossed his mind. "In the future there may come a time in which I will be needed outside of the hogwarts grounds for less than pleasant matters, I will need someone to stand temporarily in my place should this time arrive until I return. Teaching itself is not difficult regardless of your academic standing. I pride myself in being able to leave detailed enough instructions that you will be able to stand in assistance should this time arrive."

He looked down at his tea as if he was not really seeing it, weighing his words carefully. "I realize that I am asking quite a bit from you, but these are difficult times. We often do as we must in order to overcome them."

Hermione dropped her own gaze to her tea. She understood only too well the task that he will have to take in the near future, and was more than intimately acquainted with the concept of having to take drastic measures in order to do what must be done. "I would be honored professor. I think you will find that your faith is well placed."

He nodded in a curt movement, almost as if he was banishing thoughts that he didn't want to contemplate at that time as well. "If you do agree then to take on this rather daunting task, I have a few forms for you to sign to make it official. As far as your cover goes, I came up with a rather ingenious idea to claim that you were home schooled up until this point and if you are not terribly apposed to the idea, are a friend of the family that I have agreed to aid." He winked cheerfully at her. "That is of course, if you are willing to be publicly known as a friend of an old man."

"I would be delighted sir." She smiled warmly at him.

"Marvelous. Well then that about covers all the dreadful business that we needed to discuss. The other students will be arriving this evening in time for dinner in the great hall. Until then you have the time to yourself. I suggest that you use this time to assimilate yourself into the culture of this time before you are seen within the public eye this evening. Late tomorrow afternoon I will have the time to asses your academic standing up until this point. You may use the flu in those free hours before hand to travel to Diagon Ally in order to acquire your supply's for this coming year. I have taken the liberty of bringing you a list of things you will need as well as a small amount of funds- no I will hear no protests- trust me when I say my dear, that I am more than able to help a dear young student such as yourself."

"Thank you professor..." She stopped short, finding words inadequate. Opting instead to give him a warm smile which he returned.

"Now my dear, i'm afraid that I must leave again. Have a few matters to take care of before this evening. If you would be so kind as to sign the apprenticeship document I will leave you to the wonders of the castle."

She acquiesced, thanking him repeatedly as he left just as quickly as he arrived.

Now with only the fire for company she returned to the small table that they had been sitting at, sifting through the documents that he had left behind. His supply list covered everything standard that she remembered from her own years, only with a hand written list of books that Dumbledore had added on, all of the titles seeming fascinating yet clearly advanced in there level. In dismay she read another hand written note next to the standard student list. He requested that she retrieve a new wand that was crafted within this time period, in order to avoid unneeded confusion and questions if her wand was ever requested for weighing as well as other official business.

As much as she hated to admit it, it made since. A wizards wand was like a finger print, it would be too risky to keep one that was very odiously not of the craftsmanship of the time.

Sifting through the other papers she glanced over other notes pertaining to her retaining her given name as there were no prominent wizarding family's that also claimed it, risking that they would know she wasn't of there line.

She stacked the papers neatly on the table, knowing that she would have to return to them at length tomorrow before her trip for her supplies, and left the comfort of her small room. She would need to visit the library in order to fulfill Dumbledore's request that she become more versed in this time periods culture.

The castle was completely empty in the warm light of the day. It was both wonderful and sad for Hermione to walk through the many passage ways that, it seemed like just yesterday, had been in ruins. The castle seemed timeless. In all the years that would pass between now and when she first stepped off those boats as a young child, nothing would change. It would remain just as majestic as it was now, even in the heat of this time's two wars that would level more than its fair share of Europe.

The library was just as empty as the rest of the castle, even devoid of its usual caretaker.

Hermione didn't waste anytime in her mission for information. She quickly sifted through the few periodicals that the library kept in residence. Mostly for updates on the state of the wizarding war, but it wasn't this that held her attention. She was instead looking at the advertisements and few pictures that graced the articles.

She worked to memorize the appearance of the women in the articles, there hair styles, clothing. What probably struck her the most was how much the muggle war had started to bleed into the tone of the articles. Where there should have been cheerfulness or indifference, there was an overwhelming predominance of the depression of war and its repercussions that seemed to dominate even the shortest of articles. Even more so than in her time.

It was discerning, to see the political unrest that ran so much deeper than it ever had in her time. It made her realize with a sort of grim clarity, what it truly meant to have the whole world drowning in war.

"I do greatly hope that you enjoy large feasts Miss Granger. I must admit that the house elves manage to out due themselves every year it seems."

Dumbledore was practically glowing next to her. He was looking over the great hall with the same fondness that she remembered from her own time.

"Although large gatherings have never particularly been my cup of tea, I will agree that I do enjoy them." Hermione replied, her attention more drawn to the people within the hall. She was pleased to see that she had recreated the appearance of the women of that time upon herself, making her look every bit as if she belonged among them.

It was a small sort of victory, but a victory none the less.

"And last but not least, before we begin our dinning for this evening, please join me in welcoming Miss Hermione Granger who will be apprenticing under our transfiguration teacher Professor Dumbledore starting this year."

Hermione nodded a bit self consciously at the scattered applause that went through the hall. Many of the students were more distracted in there own matters to pay too much attention to her at the headmaster's announcement, for which she was grateful. "Now, once again, welcome to a new year. Let the feast begin!"

"I take it he is not a man of many words." She commented out of the corner of her mouth to a highly amused Dumbledore.

"Indeed, he has never been too fond of lengthy explanations."

Hermione ate absentmindedly as she continued to look over the great hall. She didn't recognize any of the faces as people that she would see later in her own life. Given, many of them would be quite a bit older then. But as her eyes continued there journey, they rested a little curiously on the Slytherin table. There, at the end of the table oddly distant from the rest of the house members sat a dark haired boy. He was the only one of all four houses who seemed to separate himself from everyone and everything, but even more unusual the rest of his house seemed only too happy to oblige.

"Professor, who is that student, sitting apart from his house mates?"

"Ah, I see you have noticed our young Mr Riddle. I dare say he is a bit of a loner. Top of his class mind you, and all the other classes for that matter."

Hermione worked carefully to keep her reaction off of her features. Tom Riddle. The future Lord Voldemort. Oddly the small detail that 1944 was the period that he was still in hogwarts had seemed to escape her mind completely.

A whirlwind of emotions raged through Hermione at once upon seeing him for the first time. Most predominantly, however, was a since of confusion. From everything that Harry had ever told her, Riddle was supposed to be charming, charismatic, and one of the most popular students in the school at his time. But what met her eyes was so contradictory from what she was expecting that it momentarily threw her through a loop.

She was not entirely sure exactly what she was expecting. Maybe seeing him cackling madly while torturing some poor rodent in the corner?

Instead she was faced with an oddly human vision of the future Dark Lord. He was devastatingly handsome, a fact that she couldn't write off even if she had wanted to out of shear spite.

But most importantly he was detached. Almost as if he was shunned by those of his own house. He moved and acted as if he really wasn't even mentally in the great hall with the rest of them. As if his mind was far away, and his body was only there because he was expected to be.

Strange.

Most disturbingly, he reminded Hermione a great deal of herself before she had befriended Harry and Ron. She had often wondered if she would have been just as secluded as the young Riddle was now under her curious gaze.

Perhaps, she mused, there history of him had not been as complete as they had once thought.

A discerning prospect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Whew!
> 
> Ok a few notes on why I choose to deviate from the usual 'Hermione time travels- gets sorted- goes through classes with the dashing Mr. Riddle':
> 
> First and most importantly I strongly believe that Dumbledore's wisdom would have seen this as the obvious liability that it is. Remember that a great deal of time stands between Hermione in her time, and Riddle in his youth. Her obvious disconnect from that time periods cultural norms would have been a big red flag for anyone else who had to interact with her until she was able to completely except the changes of that time.
> 
> Also it will take time for her to section off her memories and experiences of the past. I realize that many authors use those little slip ups as plot devices, but I personally in-vision Hermione as being smart enough to realize the danger in those kinds of mistakes.
> 
> Second my goal is to present Hermione as the old soul and adult that she actually is. Sorting her into a house and digressing would only be contradictory to this. Riddle would never even talk to her if she was not perceived as being just as mature as himself.
> 
> One final note before I dance off into the great beyond: Thank you so much for the lovely reviews. I think I probably wasted a good three minutes just starring at them in shock. Publishing my work is a big step for me. Your support keeps me typing away.
> 
> The next chapter will take a couple of days it gonna take much longer to flush out and all that jazz.
> 
> Much love


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Still don't own anything.  
> ~~~~~~  
> I love those who can smile in trouble, who can gather strength from distress, and grow brave by reflection. 'Tis the business of little minds to shrink, but they whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves their conduct, will pursue their principles unto death.
> 
> Leonardo da Vinci

The harsh light of the morning woke Hermione out of her troubled sleep. His face kept haunting her...

Riddles...

No matter how hard she tried she couldn't wipe her troubled thoughts away. There was something about him sitting there alone that just kept nagging at her.

It didn't make since. Why was he alone? He was supposed to be popular. Supposed to have people worshiping his every word, teachers adoring him.

She stubbornly ignored the other reactions his perfect face stirred in her.

That kind of inhuman beauty that captured every sense and held it, almost to the point of obsession.

She growled in frustration and threw the blankets off of her.

Absolutely ridiculous.

The stress of coming over forty years in the past must be getting to her.

She sighed, putting her face in her hands. It was no use, she wasn't going to be getting anymore sleep today.

Hermione grudgingly forced herself out of bed and started to get ready for the day. Trying to focus on all the tasks that she had to finish before she met with Dumbledore later that afternoon. Perhaps a trip to Diagon Ally was just what she needed to clear her mind.

Hair fixed and clothing acceptable, she went into her sitting area and picked up the small obnoxiously colored sack that Dumbledore had given her after dinner last night. She quickly sifted through the papers from yesterday, finding her list. Hopefully everything would go alright. It would be the first time she would have to interact with people outside of Dumbledore.

Unbidden, his name brought a smile to her lips. Just as in her time, he was disarmingly helpful. Seems as if the passage of time would never change somethings.

With her items in tow, she distractedly flued from her fireplace to Diagon Ally. When she landed in the Leaky Cauldron, several things assaulted her at once. The small pub had not changed in the slightest even though so many years had gone by. The memory's though...

Looking at that seemingly innocent dinning room brought back all those feelings that Hermione had been stubbornly pushing off into the back of her mind. So much had happened in this place. It was almost as if she could see Harry and Ron sitting at one of the tables with smiles on there faces, eager for the start of a new term after they had finished there shopping in the ally.

There in that short moment, Hermione started to realize the depth of what she had sacrificed with her rash action in the final battle. She had abandoned them. All of them. To God knows what kind of fate at the hands of Lord Voldemort.

She stumbled blindly to one of the tables in the corner, out of the way as much as she could manage until she got herself under control. Putting her head in her hands, resting her elbows on the table in front of her, she bit back a soul retching sob. The pain was unbelievable. So much lost, so very much lost. How could she leave them. How could she damn them to a fate that none of them had asked for. A fate that they had all been thrown into the moment that they had stepped into the wizarding world. Her friends. Her family. Her teachers.

She let her head move down onto her crossed arms on the table. It took a great effort to even try to pull her storming emotions back. It was not in her nature to succumb to desolation.

She could do this, she fiercely told herself.

Harry and Ron would not want her to give in to her own insecurities and anguish.

But the whole process was so much harder to settle into her mind.

There faces floated through her subconscious, all of them smiling even in the hopeless circumstances that they had faced on that final day. All of them had been unwilling to let the direness of there situation take over there minds. They knew then, even as much as she knew now, that succumbing to there fears and insecurity's would spell there failure much faster than anything else.

They had fought with everything that they had.. and everything that they didn't... because they knew that they had no choice.

Harry's face stood forward in her mind stronger than the others. It was almost as if she could hear his voice just as if he was sitting right there next to her. The last words that he had said to her in the midst of the chaos of trying to pull there forces back together to face the next attack. The smell of burning smoke and debris filled her senses again. The wariness, the desperation, all came back.

"I have no regrets Hermione" He had smiled, "This war may have started long before we were even born but just think. Would we have ever met, ever gotten in all that ridiculous trouble together if things had not been as they already where? No, no regrets. We were born for this. All of us. We made more of an impact than most can even think about making. Yes... maybe if those before us hadn't made such terrible mistakes we wouldn't be here but we cant control that. We can do this. All of us. There is nothing more to lose. If he is going to win we are going to give him absolute hell until the very last second. Then... we will finally see all those that we lost."

He had almost seemed happy at the idea. It was clear to Hermione that he only saw death as a way to return to his parents. To all there friends. To Dumbledore.

No there was no fear. Not anymore. He had been right, they had nothing more to lose. Everything had been taken away from them already. All that was left was to fight till the last breath and take down as many of them as they could with them.

Hermione took a deep breath, pulling herself back to the present. The smells and emotions of battle faded just as quickly as they had come.

She knew that Harry had not been referring to the current situation that she found herself in but somehow she found his words to fit perfectly. He was right. She could do this, if not for herself then for them.

She had been given a second chance, as unlikely as it had been. It would be foolish for her to throw it away in her despair and fall apart under all the strain.

She had made the choice to try and find a different way to prevent the eventual slaughter that was going to come by nightfall. Perhaps this was it. This was her way to prevent that battle. That time of desperation and loss.

She would just have to keep her eyes open and her mind clear. She couldn't let her own experiences cloud how she handed things in this time. It wasn't logical. This couldn't be driven by her own emotions, she had to put away her hurt... and her heart until the right time. A time when she knew that everything was going to be ok. That she had somehow managed to accomplish her wish of preventing that final battle.

Rubbing her face, she slumped back into her chair and looked up at the dusty cobweb ridden ceiling. She worked on steadying her breath to a more normal pace, focusing on bringing her heart rate back down.

As she calmed the sounds and atmosphere of the small pub started to break back into her consciousness. The ringing music of glasses making friends with each other as the bartender cleaned them. The steady hum of conversation from all the many witches and wizards that were going about there everyday business as if a young woman hadn't just stumbled through the fireplace and nearly had a breakdown on the hard wood floor. The enchanted kettles floating through the air to refill the glasses of avid tea drinkers. The steady golden glow of the many lamps stationed around the tables.

She squeaked in surprise as a damp rag nudged her arm insistently, obviously on a mission to get her table clean whether she wanted it to or not. She moved her arms off the table in compliance, staring at the rag dumbly.

Why was she even here in the first place...?

She shook her head to clear it and reached into the pockets of her robes to find the small goady bag that Dumbledore had given her. The drawstring gave easily as she pulled it open, her eyes widening, effectively clearing the lingering smoke out of her mind from her emotional turmoil. A substantial amount of gold shined up at her in the soft light.

Her mouth fell upon.

Surely Dumbledore had made some kind of mistake... there was enough gold in here to last her for the next 2 years...

"That man..." she muttered, shaking her head again. She had no idea how on earth she was supposed to repay him for the level of kindness he was bestowing on a complete stranger. He really was a rare bug. If only there where more people like him, the world would be a much more pleasant place to stumble through.

Hermione smiled to herself and ran a had through her hair.

As unlikely as it seemed, she did have a invaluable friend in this time period and she guarded this knowledge with all the fierceness of a mother hen.

She braced herself and stood up, closing the bag and stuffing it back into her pocket with a paranoid focus. Now fully aware of how much money she was carrying around.

With one last glance around the pub she way out into the ally with purposeful strides. First thing was first. She needed a companion to talk blankly at where she didn't have to censer what she said for fear of what damage she might do. With a happy smile at that thought she picked up her pace towards the local pet menagerie. Nearly skipping at her excitement at this welcome distraction.

The tiny bell above the shops door rang as she pushed her way into a symphony of hoots, meows, and cheerful conversation of the pet store. The sun reflected invitingly off of the many metal bars of the cages and she soon occupied herself with looking over the owls.

She had never had one before but she figured they were dead useful and since she knew she would be staying here she needed a reliable way to send messages in the future. Especially if she wanted to get a job after her schooling was finished.

She felt before she saw the presence of one of the shop keepers, smiling at her kindly. "Can I help you find a pet young lady?" He was an elderly small stooped man who was absentmindedly wiping some feathers off of the display table in front of them . She smiled at him.

"I think i'm looking for an owl."

"We have quite a few to choose from are you looking for a specific type?"

"Mmm..." She muttered, Turning back to the beautiful birds before her. There were so many different colors and sizes, she wasn't even sure which one to look at first.

The shop keeper rattled off a list of the various kinds he had and all there different qualities.

"-of course we have the minute owls very good for short dist- hey! stop that fighting!" The man had turned away from her, waving his hands at a very large long eared owl that was bulling a plain barn owl.

Its eyes were fierce iridescent gold and it looked at the shop keeper coldly. Clearly debating whether to listen or not. It was tall and towered over the other birds, its long pointed ears looking almost regal atop its head. The other birds, regardless of size, shied away from it almost as if to try and keep its attention from turning to them.

"Honestly... If he keeps this up i'm going to have to set him loose. Hes already cost me quite a lot in the damage hes done to the other birds. Bad temper and blood, that one."

"Whats his name?"

"Hasn't got one as far as I know, showed up a couple of weeks ago in the shop and has been causing hell ever since."

"Do you know how old he is?"

"Maybe a couple of years at the most. At this rate I'll never be rid of him." The shop keepers muttered darkly.

Unwanted... the thought reminded Hermione painfully of Crookshanks, and the fact that he had shown up out of nowhere... didn't belong... reminded Hermione sharply of herself.

The bird turned its eyes to her then, seeming to pin here with its gaze. The intelligence in its eyes was shocking. In that moment she knew... He was the one.

Never breaking eye contact, she held out her arm in a confident gesture, but also an invitation for him to choose if he wanted her as his mistress. The beautiful bird took wing and settled on her arm as if he belonged there. His self confidence and assuredness of his own greatness evident in his every move.

Hermione flexed her hand, taking great comfort in the birds weight on her.

She smiled radiantly at it, lifting her spare hand to stroke the shining rich browns of its feathers below its ears almost lovingly.

The bird shifted, settling down, Its golden eyes closing slightly in pleasure.

Hermione felt a wonderful tightening in her chest in response.

She wasn't alone now. She finally had a companion that was just out of place as she was.

She looked up then a the shop keeper who was looking at her with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

Hermione bit back a chuckle. "Ill take him."

The small man shook himself and nodded fiercely. "Please take him... Free of charge."

She frowned, "are you sure?... I am more than willing to pay. Please-"

"No my lady. You have no idea what a great service you are doing in taking him. I am not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Ill get you a cage to transport him in."

She frowned, somehow the idea of putting such a magnificent bird in an every day cage just seemed wrong. "No that's ok he's fine as he is."

Hermione was shooed out of the store before she could keep forcing her money on the shop keeper, the door tinkling behind her as it closed on his many thanks for taking the owl off of his hands.

"I honestly wanted to pay..." she muttered sadly to her new familiar who now perched on her shoulder as if he owned the appendage. "Ill have to think of a good name for you when we get back to the castle."

She finished the majority of her shopping in short order, leaving her favorite for last. The book store. As she walked down the street on the way to the wonderful shop she twirled her new wand between her fingers. It was a lot thinner than the one that she had gotten as a little girl, but somehow it seemed to fit her better than that one ever had. The long polished rose wood danced in the light of the sun.

Maybe these many changes wouldn't be so bad after all. She used her new wand to shrink her many purchases in order to fit them easily into her free pocket and walked into the book store.

The smell of old books and leather surrounded her as she stepped through the door, bringing a blissful smile to her face. Finally. Home.

She took her time going through the many shelves just looking, running her fingers over the many spines as if to reacquaint herself with her long lost friends. She took out her list and started to search for the books that she would need for her studies to finish her schooling and for her private lessons with Dumbledore. It seemed to take forever, but she was finally able to locate all of them, spelling the rather large pile to be light in her arms as she made her way to purchase them. As she picked up a medium leather bound journal to use in her advanced studies, the binding of a black book caught her eye.

Curious she set down her pile and pulled the book from its place on the shelf.

It looked ancient. Black and leather bound, it was a thick heavy book with silver writing on its cover.

" Infitialis Magia" she read on the cover quietly to herself. As she flipped through it she came to the conclusion that it was a complicated advanced book on what could have been an early appearance of what was now known as the dark arts. It was something that she had never studied before, having been always forbidden to even consider it in her own time but something about it kept her from putting the book back in its place.

The unbidden image of Riddle's flawless face as he had been at dinner the night before drifted through her thoughts.

She wanted to understand him better. Why he had decided to embrace the dark arts so thoroughly. Why it seemed to draw in the most powerful witches and wizards of all time.

Making her decision she added the book to her pile and made her purchases.

If she was going to stay in this time where the most powerful dark wizard of all time came from, she was going to understand every aspect of why he had done so and how he had done it. Knowledge had always been her best weapon against all odds... and this was no different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hmm... Hermione's new familiar... remind you of anyone? *chuckle*


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Nothing *sob* absolutely nothing, owns I.  
> ~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> "Knowledge was inherent in all things. The world was a library..." - Chief Luther Standing Bear, Oglala Sioux

Hermione coughed and stumbled out of her fireplace, her new owl ruffled its feathers and settled on the back of her sofa, carefully preening the soot off of his feathers. She didn't particularly care for flu transportation but it couldn't be helped. She just despised having to brush the soot off of her cloths and have to hack up half of a lung every time she used it.

After a moment of getting her barrings back she un-shrunk all her purchases and put her clothes away in her bedroom. The books she was leaving for last. She was happy that now she had finally restored most of her possessions that she had lost. She still needed to get a trunk but that would have to wait for later. Running a hand through her hair, she went back into the living area to go through her books. Her new owl was looking at her expectantly.

"Hm.. I need to think of a name for you."

She sat down on the couch and looked into the bright fireplace in thought. This would be difficult, she didn't want to name him something common and she had never been one for coming up with good names. But the prospect of coming up with a good name for her new companion was somehow exciting.

She sighed and looked at him curiously. He just stared back at her.

"This is not going to be easy."

Maybe something from her favorite stories? She listed them off in her mind, trying to find something that she liked.

It was then, going through her favorite literature that it came to her.

"Faust..." She whispered softly.

He ruffled his feathers and flew to sit right behind her. "Faust it is then."

With a gentle touch she stroked the feathers on his back and then turned to the books she had left on the coffee table in front of her.

She wanted more than anything to be able to read through all of them for the rest of her evening but she knew she didn't have the time for that right now. Dumbledore was expecting her in an hour. Instead she put away her parchment and quills, some in her new leather messenger bag, the rest in the deep mahogany wood desk in the corner next to the fire place. She went back to her sofa and ran her fingers reverently over her books. She picked up the advanced magic book Dumbledore had asked her to get for there advanced lessons and put it into her bag, along with the leather journal that she had gotten for the same thing. Then, with careful hands she picked up the dark magic book and settled back onto the sofa.

She had a few moments to do some reading... Opening the black leather cover, she turned through it, absorbing every word that crossed her book spoke of negative energies and how to tap into them, but try as she might she couldn't remember ever learning of such magic.

'Among the most powerful of all energy, pure negative remains one of the most powerful. There are many basses that serve as substantial conduits. Among them are: life force, spirit force, and soul force. While difficult to tap into, they can serve as a massive power inflation in order to fuel even the most difficult primal magic.'

Hermione frowned. She was going to have to do allot more research to even follow the subject but the idea didn't daunt her. It would simply mean more time in the library.

"Ah, Miss Granger please come in, come in. How was your trip to Diagon Ally? Did you bring your original wand as I requested?"

Hermione closed the door softly behind her as she stepped into Dumbledore's office, a smile on her face.

"Yes indeed Professor I remembered, and thank you so much for the generous gift of all that money."

"You are very welcome my dear. I was hoping to help ease your transition into the marvelous present. Now, would you like some tea before we get started?"

"Yes please."

She took a seat in one of his many arm chairs, pulling out her supply's and both wands. Dumbledore sat down a overly cheerful tea set and sat down a crossed from her.

"Now let me see your old wand and we will get started." He reached out for the wand and holding it in his free hand he pointed his own wand at it.

"Revelabit potentia" he said quietly, avidly looking at a sort of graph that had appeared out of the tip of her wand. He nodded to himself as if already knowing what he saw and canceled the spell, putting the wand back down on the table in front of them. "Now, I know what I am about to ask is going to be difficult for you but it must be done. I need permission to destroy your old wand forever so that its origins are never discovered."

He looked at her over the top of his glasses calmly.

She knew this was coming but it was still hard to hear. "Yes, I understand... you... have my permission..." she replied with some difficulty.

He nodded to her then pointed his own wand at her old one and performed a wordless spell. She watched with a since of finality as her wand burned to nothing before her eyes. That was it... the last piece of her past that she had with her. Now she was fully in this time period with nothing tangible to connect her with her past. It was a sobering thought.

"Now," Dumbledore started, pulling her attention away from where her wand had been sitting only moments before. "I'm going to go through a list of questions over the many subjects that we teach here at hogwarts to evaluate your level. Just answer them to the best of your ability."

Hermione nodded and kept her eyes on the professor as he rattled of a large list of questions, the level of difficulty growing as the minutes passed. There was something calming about being able to simply focus on the questions at hand, all of which she knew the answer to. She fell back into the comforting feeling of being back in one of her old classes, responding in excruciating length to the simple questions that her professors would ask the class. She silently thanked her own obsession with learning everything that she could, whether it had been taught in her classes or not. It seemed odd that now, of all times, it was helping her more than anything else ever could.

"Very good Miss Granger," Dumbledore finally said after almost two hours of questions. "It seems my assumptions were correct, you are well above the levels that are taught here at hogwarts and are more than qualified to start advanced lessons. You will still need to take you standard tests to gain your licence here."

She frowned at him for a moment, "I'm sorry professor but did you just say that your assumptions where correct? I'm afraid I don't understand..."

"That my dear, you will learn here very shortly as we start our advanced lessons." He smiled at her mysteriously.

Hermione had no choice but to accept that answer... as much as it confused her. "As you wish, Sir."

"Now, I'm afraid that I am about to pile a dreadful work load on you, but I dare say that you can handle it."

"He hadn't been joking..." Hermione muttered to herself as she made her way to the library. Dumbledore had already given her a substantial stack of first years papers to grade, four chapters to read out of the book that would be used for there advanced classes, and last but not least... she was expected to take all her exams by the end of the week. That only gave her three days to study for them on top of everything else.

She sighed, running a had through her hair. Oh well. She figured Dumbledore knew what he was doing even if she didn't like it.

She rounded the corner into the library, making her way into a secluded corner in the back where she could work in peace. Hermione set her bag on the table and started to unload all her many papers, books and supplies onto it's surface.

She figured she would probably be there the rest of the night, but at least she had very few distractions in this time. Sitting down she pulled the papers to her but when she looked up out of instinct she froze.

There, at the table just a few feet from her sat Tom Riddle. Thankfully he didn't seem to notice her gaze, he was buried in a large stack of books and writing calmly what was most likely a very lengthy essay from what Hermione was able to see.

She turned her gaze nervously back to her papers, not really looking at them, but as a few moments passed he didn't move or even look up from whatever he was working on. Hermione sat stiffly for what seemed like forever, trying to make herself invisible only to chastise herself mentally and forcefully threw herself into grading the papers in front of her.

He was just as welcome to use the library to work as she was she told herself, and as the hours started to tick steadily by she relaxed, focusing entirely on her work. As odd as it seemed his presence started to become a welcome addition. It was almost as if she had company there within the silent walls of books, even if she knew that was not really the case.

And so began there ritual of silent studying. Everyday Hermione showed up early in the morning to begin her work and everyday he would show up through out the day to study at that same table. Never saying a word to her or to anyone for that matter. Never even looking at her. But somehow it made her curiosity grow more towards the man. Although she always kept her silence and worked tirelessly. Both would only leave when meals where being served in the great hall and again at the end of the day when the library closed, going there separate ways as if they were ships passing in the night.

Her exams came and went. She had of course received top marks in every subject that she had taken an exam for, opting out of taking Divination completely. But the excitement was short lived, she had more papers to grade and more passages to read for Dumbledore, who had now added his own essays to complement the book she was reading.

Days turned in to weeks, always the same routine always the same companion. The only slight difference in her days was when Faust would come and perch on a chair next to her, sleeping in her company while she worked and that was becoming more and more frequent when he gathered that she wasn't going to spend much time in her rooms. She would often stroke his feathers lovingly while she was reading. A habit that Faust seemed to enjoy greatly.

It wasn't until the week before Halloween that her routine was altered. Mid semester exams where here and all the students were starting to flock into the library in an attempt to cram last minute. It was on one of these days that every table was taken except for hers. She was always first to arrive and no one had the bravery to sit with Dumbledore's apprentice.

She had been grading papers feverishly for the past three hours and still had four more stacks that she hadn't even gotten to when a soft rich voice broke her out of her internal mutterings about the stupidity of first years and there lack of ability to grasp simple concepts.

"Excuse me, ... sorry to bother you but do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is taken."

Startled, she looked up from the offending paper and right into the fathomless black eyes of Riddle. Her mind went blessedly blank for a moment, wiped clean by the alluring sound of his voice before she realized that he had asked her something. She worked to refocused her mind past the unsettling effect he had on her and remembered what he had asked.

"Oh!" She started, "Of course, make yourself at home."

Hermione forced herself to look back at her paper if only to keep from starring at him shamelessly, and worked to get her mind back on the paper. But it was allot harder than she originally thought.

He was sitting here... right here... at her table...

She gazed at the paper not really seeing it...

And if she kept it up she would draw unwanted attention to herself...

'Stupid, Hermione just act like you always do' she thought to herself. She had too much work to spend her time stupidly gazing at him. And she was pretty sure he wouldn't welcome the attention either. She smiled mentally at the image of him hexing her for bothering him and forced herself back to grading.

They worked in silence together, and the effect was more calming to Hermione that she was entirely ready to admit to herself. He didn't pester her with needless chatter or have his friends bouncing in at any given moment like the other students crowding the library. But come to think of it, she really didn't remember seeing him with anyone period. And as she frowned at a particularly terrible sentence on the essay she was grading, she wondered if he really had any friends at all. He only ever seemed to be studying. Perhaps... He was more like her than she realized...


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Dat earlier chapters.  
> ~~~~~~~~~
> 
>  
> 
> "My heart is filled with joy, when I see you here, as the brooks fill with water when the snow melt in the spring, and I feel glad, as the ponies are when the fresh grass starts in the beginning of the year.
> 
> I heard of your coming, when I was many sleeps away, and I made but few camps before i met you. I knew that you had come to do good to me and to my people. I look for the benefits, which would last forever, and so my face shines with joy as I look upon you."
> 
> Ten Bears, Yamparika Comanche

The light started to dim in the library, signaling that it was about to close. Hermione started to pack up her things, seeing Riddle do the same out of the corner of her eye, and they left just as they had everyday before.

She traveled her way back to her room to change before her late lesson with Dumbledore. The transfiguration teacher only really had the time to teach her once a week after all his other business was complete.

She hastily pulled herself together, smoothed her unruly hair back into a tight bun before running back out of the door with her bag, kissing a very indignant Faust on the head as she headed out.

The corridors were completely dark as she walked purposefully through them. The dim torchlight cast an almost eerie light, embracing the moon light that filtered in softly through the lead glass windows. It had an undeniable beauty that Hermione rarely got to admire when she was still a student.

Now she allowed herself to absorb the calming sight in silence. It was amazing what one could notice without the threat of death larking around every corner.

Hermione knocked on Dumbledore's office door and waited patently for his voice to beckon her inside.

"Ah good Miss Granger."

He was pulling on his traveling cloak. "I trust you remembered to bring your cloak with you?" He waited for her nod. "Good good. Tonight will be a practical lesson on what you have started to study so diligently. Shall we head outside?"

She threw her cloak on over her bag and followed him through the castle, breathing in the cool crisp air as they walked through the front door. If nothing else, it was more beautiful outside than it was inside the castle. The moon filtered through the fall leaves, making the ground look picturesque. The silver white light reflecting off of the smooth unbroken surface of the lake.

Dumbledore made his way to a small clearing on the opposite side of the lake, close to the rustling leaves of the forbidden forest. She watched as the trees seemed to dance of there own accord with the cleansing breeze that blew through them.

"Now," Dumbledore began as he stopped walking, trying to get two licorice snaps to stop fighting so he could eat one. "Your reading had spoken of the workings of all magic within the world around us. In the very earth in which we stand."

He took a moment to chew his candy before continuing. "Now this magic - this energy - is in all living things. Witches and wizards are born with a natural ability to tap into this and use it, that's what gives us our magic. However the ability to tap into the energy around us and in other living creatures, to be able to pull from that on a mass level, must be taught. Some - although a very rare few mind you - are able to do this on instinct without any training.

Tonight we are going to work on meditation in order to sense the energies around you, then we will go from there. Licorice snap?"

"No thank you Sir."

"Just as well probably, they tend to be a wee bit feisty."

He settled down on the grass and patted the spot next to him. Hermione sat her bag down and joined him, crossing her legs beneath her.

"Now, close your eyes and take a few deep breaths to calm yourself and your mind."

As Hermione worked on relaxing herself, she cleared her mind of all other thoughts and just focused on the feel of the air, the sounds around her. After a time Dumbledore's quiet voice drifted to her. "Focus on the magic within you, inspect it at every angle. Sence how it is connected to you and where."

She turned her focus inward, and found her magic easy enough. It seemed to glow to her, in a soft white blue light. Its presence was comforting, calming her further into the trance.

"Turn your focus outside of yourself and to the ground below you. Find the connection between your magic and the earth."

As Hermione turned her focus outside of herself she was assaulted by a symphony of energy's, all seeming to sing with there own tone and rhythm. The earth beneath her was the strongest, its ancient steady sound singing in her very soul. She listened to its sound and felt its wisdom flow through her. It was a grounding force and yet humbling. It reminded her just how young she was compared to everything around her. The more she focused the more she felt her heart rate slow down to match that of the earths ancient rhythm.

"Focus on the creatures, even those as small as the ants in the grass beneath us." Dumbledore whispered calmly next to her.

All the life forms around her were full of such young hopeful energy that it took her breath away. The insects that Dumbledore mentioned were singing with a very high vibrant tone that it moved in a counter melody over the other life energy's. It felt as if she was completely out of her own body, her spirit drifting through the stunning music. She turned her attention to the bright blue light next to her and realized with a start that it was Dumbledore. Through the energy he emitted, she could see his staggering magical potential. Somewhere in her consciousness she noted that this must have been how he was able to tell what she was capable of.

"Good, now I want you to release the rest of your hold on your conscious self. All witches and wizards have a connection to the animals around them as deep as there very souls. Turn your focus to the forest and let your soul find its mirror."

Hermione let go of the last bit of control she had on her consciousness, allowing herself to move freely through the forest in front of her. She saw a whole manner of creatures around her as she moved through the music of the world. Deer raced past her, there haunting melody making her want to race with them, dance among the wildlife. To be free. But she was still searching, and through the haze of her euphoria she heard the howl of wolves. Her soul sang at the sound. She felt as if she were closing her eyes, as if to hear them better but when she opened them, her vision was not her own. She was looking through the eyes of another creature and it was bolting through the forest. Freedom, the likes of which she had never felt before flowed through her and she wanted to laugh in ecstasy. It was if the animal she had bonded with knew that she was there, and she felt an overwhelming since of welcome, love, acceptance. As if she had always been meant to be here. The trees were rushing past, the wind was moving around her, through her mouth and nose, sifting through her fur. She was hunting, and she was close. They all were. The thrill of the hunt flooded her, nothing else mattered.

The soft rustle of padded paws hitting the ground in unison filled her ears, the signal that she was looking for came, and her wing broke off from the west, flanking there pray. She could hear its labored breathing, it was already wounded, the chase wouldn't last much longer. She leap through the air with perfect grace, landing in front of the injured deer, it reared back and tried another direction, but it was too late. Her family would finally eat tonight, tonight they would sleep well.

"Come back to me Miss Granger."

It was whispered in her ears but she didn't want to listen, her family depended on her and she would never let them down.

"Its ok my dear you can let go, come back slowly."

Something told her she should listen, something in the back of her mind. With a great deal of concentration she tried to focus on her body. Gently she brought herself back, gasping at the shock of feeling her mind connect with her body again. She took a few calming breaths to regain her awareness and opened her eyes slowly. Dumbledore was beaming down at her.

"You are a natural Miss Granger!" He was positively glowing with pride. "The Gray Wolf... I should have known. Unending loyalty to ones family, fierce intelligence, wisdom of the ancestors, the ability to survive against all odds..."

He sat down in front of her and conjured up one of his favorite pots of tea and helped her shaking hands hold one of the small cups. "There you go. Easy does it. Since this was your first experience out of your own body to such an extent it will take time for you to regain your strength. Although, I must say, most witches or wizards could not have accomplished what you just managed on your first try."

He took a moment to let her drink and stewed through his thoughts, stroking his red brown beard thoughtfully. "The animal whose soul we mirror is the form in which we take when we become animagi."

"But Sir, I thought our patronus-"

"Our patronus takes the form that is dictated by the happy memories in which we use to conjure them, they are separate from our animagus form completely. Memories change, happy memories or otherwise. However, our souls can't be changed. In your reading you will come across the basics for pulling on the energy of your animal connection, it will power your most effective spell work. You did very well, I want you to keep up your reading and continue to practice what we worked on tonight. Its already getting quite late and you will need your rest. You will be putting this into practice more soon than you think."

He winked at her, but some how she had a ominous feeling about the mysterious comment.

The next morning found her sitting in the library at an ungodly early hour looking down at her books. Last nights lesson kept replaying through her mind, the images, the feelings, the way she had never felt more free in her life. The whole experience rocked her in a way that nothing else ever had. Now, more than ever before she was eager to best understand every aspect of this new vision of magic and how it worked.

Hours passed as she poured through her books only take short breaks to grade the last few papers she needed to for the week. As she sat completely absorbed in her work she heard the chair across from her move and looked up. Riddle sat down across from her and started to work on whatever homework he had for the week without a word or even a glance up at her.

Shocked she looked as slyly around the room as she could manage. The place was completely empty... and yet here he was.. sitting across from her and not at his normal table.

Hermione smiled to herself and looked back at her book. It wasn't a large gesture but, somehow she felt like she had won an impossible battle.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The house elves tell me I still own nothing the irritating little...  
> ~~~~~~~~~~
> 
>  
> 
> Be not afeard: the isle is full of noises,
> 
> Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not.
> 
> Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
> 
> Will hum about mine ears; and sometime voices,
> 
> That, if I then had wak'd after long sleep,
> 
> Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming,
> 
> The clouds methought would open and show riches
> 
> Ready to drop upon me; that,
> 
> when I wak'd I cried to dream again.
> 
> The Tempest (3.2.96-104)

After an exaggeratedly long time Hermione looked up reluctantly from her work. She was so very tired. It seemed as if she never got enough sleep these days. There was far too much to do and so little time to do it. Riddle still sat as silently as the grave across form her. He was leaning back in his chair, which he had turned toward the nearest window, seemingly lost in thought. He spun his wand in his free hand that was not draped over the back of his chair, much in the same way that Hermione had long associated with drummers of her time. He seemed almost bored, as if the books on the table in front of him could not longer hold his attention. Hermione was once again struck my his unnatural beauty. It was obvious that he didn't even try, but everything about him was practically screaming of grace and confidence. The coming twilight's gentle orange glow reflected off his black hair, loosely falling into his eyes which reflected the window's image back almost perfectly.

She stretched shortly, looking back down at the essays she had been pursuing, trying to distract herself from the image before her. This time one of Dumbledore's. She pulled her leather journal closer and read on.

"It has been, in my prolonged studies of the art of connecting with the worlds energies, that not all of these energies seem to manifest themselves in the same manner.

It seems as if the emotions of all living things effect the energies in which we emit. The more toxic the emotion; such as hatred, bitterness, hurt, abandonment, resentment and so on; the more a negative energy begins to manifest..."

Hermione started, now fully awake, her eyes riveted to the page.

"It is in my personal experience that these energies are what power such spells that are widely known as being Dark Magic. It is necessary for the welder to have such strong toxic emotions in order to wield this type of energy effectively; i.e. the unforgivable curses. Much in the same way in which all good and healing magic feeds on our emotions and willingness to save or aid.

However, to use such magic is to take such energies into ones self and truly draining spells begin to leave a mark either for good or for ill. The more in which a wielder seems to use good energies the more it seems to heal them. In balance the more negative energy's are wielded, the more it eats away from the caster.

All things demand balance and I have found that such philosophy is highly pronounced when observed within these practices."

Hermione starred at the passage, her mind a whirlwind of questions and explanations. Of course! It was so obvious yet so easily over looked.

As her mind began to contemplate the implications of her discovery, a sensation unlike any she had ever experienced before ripped her concentration away. It was as if scales of impossibly hot fire were moving a crossed her skin in obvious curiosity, singing with the same tender melody of the earth. While the touch was clearly done out of unconscious inquiry, the mix of that energy with her own created a wave of unimaginable pleasure and desire to rush through her. Her body shuddered in pleasure and she gasped involuntarily, making her eyes snap up to meet Riddles dark gaze. His surprise almost perfectly concealed, but still there.

They starred at each other for a moment, and she felt his energy gently slither away from her. After a time he slowly inclined his head to her and then turned his gaze back to the window as if nothing had happened.

She felt her heart rate come back down. What on earth was he doing? Honestly, what a strange thing to do out of boredom... although such a thing really shouldn't surprise her.

'Two can play that game' she thought defiantly to herself.

Taking a very quiet breath so as not to draw attention to herself, she pulled on her own energy and as she looked down at her book, going back to taking notes, she saw in her minds eye as it took on the expected form of a wolf, seemingly glittering like crystal, a mist of a new morning shimmering around it. She willed it toward him, her intentions at the fore-front of her mind.

She saw out of the corner of her eye as it rubbed from tip of its nose all the way to the end of its tall before dissipating. Hermione saw Riddle shudder, jerk, then go ridged, his eyes widening in shock.

He snapped his gaze to her, but she kept her attention on her work. However, unable to keep the gentle smile away as it spread across her features.

The unbidden childish thought danced through her mind: 'you started it...'

Placing her bag down on the ground next to her sofa, Hermione sighed. Her encounter with Riddle still running as if on endless repeat through her mind. What was it about her energy and his that reacted so?

But even as she asked the question she felt as if she already knew at least part of the answer.

She was attracted to him, she could no longer escape that fact, although she had not been denying that as as much as simply not openly acknowledge it. To acknowledge such a thing could mean that she would have to think of what it meant... the repercussions.

She knew, at least, that something of her energy effected him as well, she just wasn't quite sure if it was merely her own inner interest reflected on to him through her power's manifestation. The whole thing was complicated at best and as she sat down on her sofa, her mind felt nothing but a complete mess to her.

So many questions with seemingly no answers in sight.

Hermione gazed into the warm fire before her, her mind seeming to settle as she reached out to pet Faust who had landed next to her one the sofa. One thing was absolutely certain, there was no turning back now. She had never backed down from anything and her feelings were no exception. She would just have to see where this was going to lead her.

Somehow she had managed to completely separate in her mind the person that Riddle was now, compared to the person that he would become or could become at least. She wanted more than anything to believe that the man could be saved before he became the monster that she would come to know in her time. He was still human now and that was more than she could ever hope for.

"If only I can get through to him.. maybe show him that there is another way..." she mused as she looked down at Faust. "Harry once said he had never known love.. or friendship..."

The thought saddened her... that anyone could live there whole life and never know the comfort of having friends who would forgive them of there faults... to make them stronger with there love.

"But how can I even begin to become friends with someone who really has never even experienced such a thing..." Faust's golden eyes gazed back at her silently and the answer swam through her mind as if it had been there all along. "Kindness... even in the face of his faults and his transgressions..."

But the real question was could that be enough to pull him back from the darkness that he was flung into at the very beginning of his life. She figured that she would just have to try and see.

She stopped moving as her mind flew back to there encounter, completely unaware of Faust's affronted look when she stopped stroking him.

She closed her eyes and just for a moment she could feel in beautiful detail the scales as they moved over her skin. Scorching... trying to find out who she was... what she was capable of doing, not realizing that the emotions and sensations caused by the contact were more than intimate. Fire and earth, both such powerful elements and capable of great violence.

She longed to feel that again, the feel of his energy on her skin. Longed for it just as she might long for the warmth and comfort of home.

Faust's hostel hoot pulled her out of her thoughts enough to hear the frantic beating of small wings in front of her. She opened her eyes seeing a tiny minute owl doing loops around the coffee table. It dropped a envelope and zoomed out of the open window at a dangerous angle.

Strange, she thought, a letter at this time of night. But one look at the hand writing told her everything that she needed to know. It was Dumbledore.

Ignoring the hooting rant that Faust was having at her side, she opened the envelope and pulled out the rather short letter.

Miss Granger,

I humbly request that you make an appearance at a small extra class that I will be hosting tomorrow evening to help with an advanced demonstration on the theory that I have been instructing you on. Do not fret, you will be more than ready.

This is going to be an after classes event for my transfiguration students to attend so all years may be present.

Most sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Hermione got up from the sofa and patted Faust on the head before heading back into her rooms. She was going to have to go to bed early if she was going to have enough time during the day tomorrow to finish the last of her papers before she had to go to his class. Christmas break was coming soon and she knew that her amount of grading would go up considerably before the end of the term tests. She wanted to get up to date before she got swamped again.

She ran a warm bath, pulling her hair up into a loose bun. With her mind in such turmoil she could really use the relaxing feel of the water, the smell of her vanilla soap and bubbles. She undressed slowly, letting the act feel as if she was pulling off all the stress of her day, and slipped into the warm water. Resting her head back she closed her eyes slowly and inhaled the relaxing scents. She would rest her eyes just for a moment... then she would get out and clime into bed...

She was dreaming... at least she knew she had to be, she never remembered going into the forest. The smell of the turning leaves filled her senses and she felt as if she were wandering through the trees even though she couldn't feel the ground beneath her feet. The moon was piercing through the trees, turning silver at her feet. The harder she looked the more images started to materialize before her. Wolves so pale she could almost see through them, were running through the trees all around her. They seemed so real yet she knew as she watched them pass that they were more than they seemed.

The wind that had been softly calling to her before started to change... she took in a breath of crisp air and let her mind open. Whispers... voices.. so silent that they were nearly impossible to hear started to fill her mind. She could make out a few of them the longer she listened.. voices of her past and voices of her present all speaking together. All at seemingly different paces. She opened her eyes and the wolves brought with them images... she watched her past unfold before her eyes, moving backwards as if unraveling. The sight unnerved her and she squeezed her eyes shut again, opening them slowly only to find herself gazing into the eyes of a beautiful pale wolf standing at eye level with her. Its eyes were the hypnotic gold of time... somehow she felt like she know this wolf already... as if they had met before...

A voice rose out of the symphony of whispers but Hermione was still unable to make out any of what it said. The scene before her shifted again and she found herself in a different forest entirely. She felt as if she should be scared or worried... The sounds of a heated battle danced along the edges of her senses and she turned to see the image of Riddle standing next to her. He was older, an adult, but seemingly timeless in the same breath. His haunting beauty was as visible as ever even tho his posture was hostel... defensive...

"GO! We don't have much time!"

"I can't leave you Tom!"

"Yes you can... and you must... too much is at stake... I can handle things here. Please, Hermione, go!"

She spun, not in any control of her actions, and fled deeper into the forest, a new determination filling her mind. There was fear there.. not for him... no... fear for those who were going to face him.

She ran through the forest with an assuredness that could have only come from knowing its layout as she knew the very back of her hand.

Hermione could hear as she passed another tree, Riddles velvet voice as he confronted those who were after them.

"You made a grave laps in judgement coming here... and I'm disinclined to grant you any mercy."

"Our orders are set, you can't stand up to all of us Slytherin..."

"Were those the same words you used to calm the children you slaughtered? Perhaps we will sing for there memory. It will be a nice gesture... don't you think? Come. Face this powerless half blood..."

The ground trembled beneath her feet and she heard the hypnotic sound of Riddles voice as he sung a child's melody tauntingly. What would have been so beautiful to her ears was tainted by the agonized screams of there pursuers... he was burning them alive one by one... making the others watch... all the while his song never stopped never changed, never betrayed even the slightest bit of emotion from him...

The forest beneath her feet and all around her evaporated in an icy mist. She starred once again into those golden timeless eyes... but they were alone hanging in the blackness before her...

She breathed in and felt rather than heard the words the wolf spoke to her.

All things preserved,

with arctic ice made timeless,

and just as it brings balance to the earth

who is life and death of all things

so shall they be unto each other...

Hermione awoke with a start, jerking up from the still warm bath water she last remembered being in. A soft weight swung on her neck that hadn't been there before and she reached her hand up to clasp it. She looked down seeing a good sized claw resting in her hand. A wolfs claw, attached to a leather cord that wound around her neck. She ran her other hand over it but there was no knot, no clasp.

She tried to steady her breathing, but it was no use. What was that? A dream? A vision? She ran a hand over her face as if to wipe away her confusion. A vision. It had to be. There was no other valid explanation...

But why...?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own a very nice collection of vivid thoughts, thank you very much...  
> ~~~~~~~~
> 
>  
> 
> "For this is the thing the priests do not know,
> 
> with their One God and One Truth:
> 
> that there is no such thing as a true tale.
> 
> Truth has many faces
> 
> and the truth is like to the old road to Avalon;
> 
> it depends on your own will,
> 
> your own thoughts,
> 
> whither the road will take you,
> 
> and whither, at the end,
> 
> you arrive in the Holy Isle of Eternity
> 
> or among the priests..."
> 
> -The Mists of Avalon, Marion Zimmer Bradley

Hermione scrambled out of bed and got ready as fast as her half asleep mind would allow. She was eager to see Dumbledore before the classes started for the day. She hoped... prayed that he would have answers for her. Her hand went distractedly to the new claw around her neck. He was the only one she felt could help her understand.

She pulled on her robes and tied her hair back into a bun, while messy, she hoped her curls would make it look more intended. Grabbing her things she vaguely though that Faust would be coming back from hunting still, and remembered to leave the window open for him.

Still buttoning up her robes she rushed through the door and out into the winding passageways. Luckily everyone was still asleep so she didn't have to spend her time dodging mindless students conversing as they made their way to their classes. She was slightly out of breath when she turned down the last passage that lead to the transfiguration teachers office and ran full speed into a rather padded obstacle. She squeaked stumbling back, working to regain her balance and looked up into the startled face of Professor Slughorn.

"Look sharp Miss Granger."

"Professor," she gasped, pulling herself together swiftly. "So sorry, I didn't see you."

"Indeed! I must say that it is quite lucky that I happened to run into you, I was hoping to catch up with you at some point!"

"Sir, I'm so sorry but I'm in a bit of a hurry here-"

"Yes yes, quite. No worries! It would be a crime for me to hold up a promising student such as yourself, a dare say may I trouble you with an owl?"

"Yes sir that's fine, I apologize but I really must be going-"

"Yes yes, please," He stepped out of the way a little awkward, it was obvious that grace was not one of his strong points. Not that she was one to talk by any means.

"Thank you sir!"

"Please have a good day Miss Granger!" He called as he waved to her fleeing form.

She shook her head as she rounded the last corner. She knew exactly what he wanted, merely to collect her as he had in the future. Some things, or at least people, would never change no matter how much time would pass. No matter what would happen in that span. It all seemed so far away now, like an old dream... dream...

She raised her hand swiftly and pounded on Dumbledore's door in earnest. "Professor! Please! It's me! I-"

With a gasp she almost fell into his office as the door opened swiftly before her revealing a rather startled Dumbledore.

"Miss Granger? What in heavens name is-"

"Professor I'm so sorry to bother you I really am but I really must speak with you it can't wait."

"Please my dear come in, come in." He swept to the side to admit her, closing the door behind as she rushed in. "I must say I was not expecting such a visit is everything alright?"

"Sir..." She panted for a moment, sinking down into one of his arm chairs abet a little gracelessly. "I'm not sure whats happening to me, I feel asleep last night and I saw- something- I'm not entirely sure what it was but... I don't at all think it was a dream and then I woke up and this-" She shakily pulled the claw out from inside her robes, holding it up trying to steady her hand.

Dumbledore sat down across from her and lifted his spectacles closer to his eyes to look clearly through them, inspecting the claw carefully. "Mmm..." He muttered seeming to sift through his thoughts. "It is merely a blessing. From your soul mirror. Very rare, yes very rare indeed. But I must say that I'm not surprised. I could easily see from our last practical lesson that your bond is quite strong. Could be due to your unusual nature in which you came here or from your past experiences. These things have a habit of being rather complicated to pin point. You say you had a dream before you discovered the item?"

"Yes."

"Most likely a vision."

"It was-"

He held up his hand swiftly to silence her. "Please, that vision was meant for your eyes and your eyes alone, I do not wish to know its nature. Consequently I really doubt that it would do me any good either way."

She looked down at the item in confusion.

"It is most likely that the vision was or had some element of a prophecy, much in the same manner in which those of the divination field of study are known for experiencing."

She huffed unconsciously, noting the amused expression crossing Dumbledore's features.

"Yes I have also been in the rather bad habit of discounting that area of study as well, however the more years I find my self around to enjoy the wonders of sweets I have found that many of these prophecies eventually come to fruition. In time."

He leaned forward after a moment and rested his hand gently on hers. "It is not a bad thing Miss Granger. That item will offer you the kind of protection that little else could and while you may not understand the vision now, eventually, it will all make sense. However I must urge you to not worry yourself with trying to solve or decipher the vision. The wisest men, even the strongest, have been driven mad by prophecy. It knows no time, and often does not happen in the way that we would expect. While powerful it is dangerous. Very dangerous. So, set your mind at ease, and let fate run its course as it was meant to."

Dumbledore smiled gently and leaned back in his chair. "I must say that I am not at all surprised. I had the sneaking suspicion that you were meant for great things when we met Miss Granger. It seems that once again the fates have blessed me with being correct. If such a thing continues to happen I dare say that it just might go to my head."

Hermione chuckled abidingly, giving Dumbledore a fond look. "Thank you Professor."

"Its quite alright my dear. Ah, the wonder of new discovery, there really is nothing quite like it. Tea?"

"Please," she relaxed back into the chair and watched his conjuring at work. Content enough with his explanation, she turned her attention to much more comforting and normal topics. "I have most of the recent papers ready for you." She pulled them out of her bag and place them on the table before her.

Dumbledore was particularly blinding in a bright orange robe set with matching gold necklaces around his neck. One thing was sure, it clashed horribly with his coloring, not that he seemed to mind in the least. "Ah, thank you my dear."

"I should be finishing the rest today,... which reminds me. I was reading through your writings and I came a crossed something that I wanted to ask you about."

"Fire away."

A smile tugged at her lips. "You had written about the nature of... negative magic. And, I was wondering, is it possible that using such magic can eventually lead to... madness."

"Of course most of it is still theory but yes I suppose that when used on a very large scale it can lead to madness. However, to reach that level one would have to delve into the deepest most powerful of dark magic. Something that can not be done unintentionally. Say: one dark curse is not going to turn someone insane, not even five or six. To reach that level it would take truly powerful dark magic used a great number of times."

"I see." She said distractedly, her mind already trying to put the pieces together of what she already knew of the future. Maybe there was still hope that she could save Riddle. But the key always was timing, which was so much harder to pin point.

"Very dark stuff I'm afraid. Fortunately, very few people would go to such length. I'm even inclined to say that there is no one currently on record who has delved that deeply into the dark arts, much of it involves a great deal of pain whether physical or emotional in order to perform. That is usually what keeps people from going to those lengths that would lead to the result that you are referring to."

Thankfully he didn't ask why she was inquiring about something so very unpleasant. He seemed to trust her enough to not do such a thing herself. Granted, she did not really fit the bill as someone who would go to such lengths. She left the topic there, a mental note to follow up on her thoughts later when she was alone.

"Speaking of your work, I would like you to move into the study of Animagi for these next few weeks. I assume that it should go rather quickly given your quick advance through the material that I have assigned already. If you have any questions just bring them to my attention. As for tonight, I will need your help in doing a little demonstration of sorts. This will also in a way be a test of how well you have been advancing through your own studies. When you approach the lesson later tonight I want you to first and foremost follow your instincts. We should be having some assistance from our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who will be present to help with this. I am expecting a rather large turn out."

She nodded, my mind already trying to solve the puzzle that he was putting out before her. They went through the reading material that she would need to go over for the next lesson that he had planned before she took her leave, she didn't want to monopolize his time any more than absolutely necessary.

Hermione closed the office door softly behind her, her eyes glued to the floor beneath her feet.

"Hey there kiddo!" A tenor voice peeped up not a foot in front of her. Her eyes moved up to the rather small robbed form of a young man. Couldn't have been much older than her. Far too young to be calling her kiddo...

She looked into his cheerful hazel eyes with amusement. He was maybe an inch shorter than her five foot two inches. His short dirty blond hair was sticking straight up as if he had run his hands through it one too many times already at this early hour.

"You must be Dumbledore's apprentice. I'm Marcus, I teach Defense." He said shaking her had with far too much enthusiasm. Enough that Hermione could nearly feel her teeth rattle in her head. He didn't look like he could win a fight against a teddy bear, but looks can definitely be deceiving...

She absentmindedly admired his classic good looks. The kind of looks that would make him able to get any girl he wanted, but was far from touching Riddles devastating beauty. She could feel herself smiling unconsciously back at the man. It would be see easy to fall under his charm. So easy to see herself wanting to be near him, if things had been different.

"Defense? I'm afraid I haven't seen you here before-"

"I just got back!" He interrupted joyfully. "Had an urgent call to Cairo, apparently the Egyptians put boggarts in there tombs can you believe that! No shit there I was walking into and underground passage out of one of the great pyramids when-"

Dumbledore's office door opened rather abruptly cutting off what was sure to be a rather long story, revealing an amused expression on the Transfiguration professors face. "Professor Lupin, I am free to meet with you now." He said calmly, his eyes twinkling madly.

"Ah yes well, perhaps I could regale you with such a story at a later time." Marcus chirped with a beaming smile and finally let go of Hermione's rather sore hand to follow Dumbledore into his office. She waited until the door shut behind the two men to rub her poor hand gingerly. But the mans name echoed through her mind and gave her pause. Marcus Lupin... She could see a very slight resemblance to Remus of her own time, perhaps this was his ancestor. Although they were absolutely nothing alike in personality. At least from what little she had just seen.

Regardless though, it was a little comforting to her to hear another familiar name. Somehow grounded her to what she knew was a possible future.

Hermione turned and made her way through the castle toward the library. Her mind amused at the very unconventional approach to being a professor that the man seemed to have.

Taking her usual place at her favorite table a crossed from Riddle, who made looking half asleep look picturesque, she pulled out the last of her papers to grade. They didn't take her long, she had knowingly left the easiest for last, not wanting to spend forever trying to read through horribly long essays that said the same thing seven different ways only to fill the length requirement.

The sun was already on its downward path before she started in to her own studies on animagi. It was a lengthy passage that Dumbledore had assigned to her. At least, ... reading the passage was what she was trying to do. Her eyes seemed to have other plans as they locked on to long tapered fingers across the table, stroking the spine of a weathered book absent mindedly. The movement seemed to make her mind go completely blank. It had the strangest effect on her... watching him. He handled his books much in the same way one would touch or caress a lover. The tightness in her chest was almost painful and she had the strangest urge to snatch up that hand and feel that touch on her skin.

Longed for it. He lifted his hand then and ran his fingers through his hair in a graceful gesture. Much to Hermione's horror he lifted his eyes and locked gazes with her.

She didn't know what to do, how to play it as if she was looking at him by mistake. But she couldn't look away now even if she wanted to. His dark eyes pinned her in place. A million things and yet nothing at all seemed to run through her mind. It could have been seconds or minuets that passed yet Hermione wouldn't have been the wiser. It seemed as if the whole world narrowed down to them. Nothing else existed. Nothing else mattered.

For a breath of a moment Hermione saw him lean across the table, inches from her. Close enough to feel his warm breath on her lips. But she blinked and he hadn't moved. He still sat across the table, his gaze unreadable. Hermione blinked a number of times and finally looked down at her book, Unnerved.

What was that?

A vision?

A fantasy?

She took in a shuddering breath. Occlumency maybe?...

This was dangerous. It was almost as if she was playing some kind of game with him, only she didn't know the rules and he was completely in control.

She rested her head on her hand while she looked down at her book, pulling her journal closer to her. Despite her obvious avoiding of his gaze, his eyes never left her. As dark and unreadable as always. However, he seemed to be mulling something over in his mind as he regarded her silently.

"Faust was a fool." His rich voice cut through her jumbled thoughts.

"I beg your pardon?" she responded by instinct, immediately thinking he was referring to her owl.

An elegant hand gestured to the nice leather bound gold leafed version of Faust she always had with her. Something about its story called to her. She had read it more times than she was willing to openly admit, although she was more than a little shocked that he even knew such a work considering it was written by a german muggle.

"He was arrogant enough to make a deal with the devil himself and expected to be able to outsmart him." Riddle continued, leaning back casually draping an arm over the back of a chair next to him. Despite the seemingly casual nature of his inquiry, his eyes were watching her unblinkingly. She felt as if this was somehow a test.

"I never believed that was the point." Hermione started in a quiet voice. "We all become desensitized to the world around us over time. We all make mistakes or bad judgement calls. The point of this story is not his mistakes themselves, but the fact that he... that everyone... can be redeemed regardless of past transgressions... eventually."

"Can they?..."

"Unequivocally."

They regarded each other in silence for longer than Hermione was able to keep track, only brought out of the strange spell that had fallen over them by the sound of the library closing. They both looked away then, intent on gathering up there things.

They didn't catch eyes again as they parted ways down the hall, but despite the strangeness of the encounter Hermione felt a sense of accomplishment... even if she hadn't the slightest idea what it meant.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I really wouldn't mind owning Mr. Riddle but alas...  
> ~~~~~~~~
> 
>  
> 
> Who wants that perfect love story any way, anyway  
> Cliché, cliché, cliché, cliché  
> Who wants that hero love that saves the day, anyway  
> Cliché, cliché, cliché, cliché  
> What about the bad guy goes good,  
> An innocent love un-misunderstood,  
> Black hour glass, hour glass  
> Toast to cliché is in a dark past
> 
> \- Part II, Jay-z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author warning: Chapter may induce hyperventilation, please remember to equip your paper bag in your off-hand slot for easy access...

"Attention all! Please, we are about to start." Lupin waved his hands in the air.

The rather large sized group started following Dumbledore's quiet gentle motions to form a large ring where the professors and Hermione now stood. Something about the set up strongly reminded Hermione of Dumbledore's Army. Ironically enough, this was the real thing and not the adolescent attempt she was so familiar with.

Dumbledore magicked a rather large bonfire for warmth and light, seeming to struggle with the urge to summon marshmallows as well.

The group was bustling with energy, the excitement was almost perceptible in the night air. It was intoxicating, mixing with the clean night air.

"Good evening everyone." Dumbledore announced cheerfully, smiling at the happy exclamations that drifted back to him. "Now, tonight we are going to have a demonstration of the magic that we have touched on in many of your classes. Professor Lupin has been teaching you the basics of Dueling I understand." He paused to hear the agreements ripple through the group.

"What we are going to explore tonight is that: not all dueling is done with the intention of winning or losing. Understandably this can seem hard to believe in the midst of two wars." He stated gravely. "True dueling in its most ancient form is an art. I will be matching my dear assistant with one of you who is of equal magical level to show you the true form of magic in its most base form. Mr. Riddle would you please come forward."

A murmur went through the crowd as Riddle pushed himself casually away from the tree he had been leaning against and strode to the center of the large circle. Dumbledore and Lupin moved to the crowd leaving them alone.

Riddle's eyes met hers. She was heartened to see no hostility but oddly a seeming acceptance.

"Take your places and begin."

Hermione bowed at the waist and was shocked to see the same level of respect in his answering bow. He saw her as an equal. They turned in unison walking to customary distance before facing each other, drawing their wands.

"On the count of three... One... Two... Three-"

The space lit up with the speed and magic of their spells. Both using no words to cast them. They blocked and cast with perfect unison, as if dancing instead of dueling. Riddle spun and countered with the practiced ease of a veteran. Not that Hermione was in the least bit surprised, his skills were legendary.

"You are holding back!" Dumbledore's voice cut through the air and they stopped as one, eyeing each other.

Riddle stood straight, lifting his head confidently, sheathing his wand in his sleeve and widened his stance, planting his feet firmly in the ground beneath him. Hermione recognized the preparation instantly. He was preparing to use his elemental lore, and for the first time since the duel began she was worried. Such raw magic was volatile, dangerous. It put everyone in the clearing at risk...

She prayed that Dumbledore knew what he was doing. Taking a deep breath she mirrored Riddles actions. Tapping into the music of her lore magic was easy enough but ignoring the way the bonfire flared up to an incredible height and the way the earth trembled under her feet at Riddle's call was anything but easy. The temperatures of the air plummeted just as fast as it had risen. She closed her eyes and turned inward seeking the wolf in her soul. She could see in her mind's eye the silver blue eyes of her spirits guardian awaken and when she opened her eyes she could feel it gazing through them with her.

The ice and mist solidified before her in her souls image. A majestic glistening wolf stood before her facing the image of Riddle's soul. Gazing through the legs of her wolf, her breath caught at the imposing sight before her. A massive basilisk with skin that burned and moved like the surface of an erupting volcano stood before him, its tail coiled on the ground at his feet. She couldn't even see him around its mass.

She heard Riddle's commanding hiss and saw the beast's dreaded jaws open.

Sweet Merlin how was she supposed to protect the students from this?

Follow your instincts...

Hermione whispered a desperate plea to her spirits mirror and raised her arms as she saw the basilisk rear back to strike. The change was imitated in her wolf as it widened its stance and opened its jaws widely.

The two forms slammed into each other with enough force to slide her back, but still she kept her arms stable and absorbed his power into herself. She felt the strength of his destructive power seep into every portion of her body, making her very bones scream in agony. She clamped her teeth together, preventing the anguished cry that nearly ripped from her throat.

She could do this...

She had to...

Hermione opened her eyes slowly looking at the up at the stars but never seeing them.

Compassion... forgiveness...

She would show him there was another way. There was always another way. Taking a deep breath, closing her eyes, she focused on the power she absorbed, seeing how it blended with her own seamlessly.

She poured her compassion for him within herself, her forgiveness. Images assaulted her mind. Her past, all the people that she had loved and cared for. She felt the magic within her shift, tuning itself to her internal song. Its complicated melody fueled by all the love that she had experienced through her life.

'Please,' she whispered within herself. 'Please let this work.'

She moved her arms forward and compelled her wolf towards him. The wolf crouched in ready but there was no snarl, nor howl in anger or rage. It sprung forward and sprinted to Riddle. He held up a molten shield to block her attack but as the wolf reached the shield it didn't even slow. The shield froze and shattered on impact. She watched, afraid to even draw a breath as her power made direct impact with his chest, soaking completely into his shocked form.

He fell to one knee, gaze locked on the ground. Arms clutching around his chest as if to hold himself together. As much as she tried to keep her eyes on him, her eyes were being drawn to his basilisk over him.

The great snake twisted and lashed as if in agony. The black plates that had been moving a crossed its form that she thought had merely been cooled lava were falling off of it, crashing to the ground around riddle. The great snake opened its jaws and a ear spitting scream ripped through the air. The sound tore at her soul with almost as much pain as the sound itself caused her.

The snake slammed back into a shield that she hadn't noticed before, lava dripped out of its mouth like blood, burning the grass beneath it. The last plate fell to the ground and the snake stilled, curved over Riddles shaking form. Hermione took a shaky breath, her ears still ringing.

'Breath.' She reminded herself.

The snake lifted it head slowly just as Riddle got back to his feet. A molten tongue slipped out between the beast's teeth. Hermione's wolf had already reformed over her, only it was sitting calmly her, watching much in the same way that she was.

"Very good!" Dumbledore's voice cut through the air, pulling her mind back to the present.

Hermione bowed in a mirror of Riddle's movements as they both pulled their soul's manifestations back into themselves. As they rose they locked gazes again. There was complete silence for only a moment, quickly shattered by the cheers of the students around them. She forced herself to look away from him and smiled warmly to the students in thanks.

But, even as she moved back amongst the group, Dumbledore's voice rising in explanation to all that they had seen, she couldn't focus. Too many thoughts were spinning in her mind. All of them revolving around the man who stood no more than two feet to her right.

The class passed rather quickly with her mind otherwise occupied. Luckily she wasn't needed for any other explanations or help for the last twenty minuets that they were meeting for. Dumbledore gazed at her silently as they walked back to the castle, not long after he had sent the rest of the students in.

"I can practically make cupcakes out of heavy nature of your thoughts my dear."

She snorted, looking over at the eccentric Professor with amusement. "Is it that obvious?"

"Oh yes. However I don't believe that Professor Lupin noticed anything out of the ordinary so your secret is safe with me." He smiled winningly.

"I'm sorry Professor, I've just... got a lot of things to think about I suppose. And worry about now that I come to think about it..."

"Think about: yes. Worry about? No there is nothing for you to worry about. That demonstration was more than I could have hoped for. You and Mr. Riddle did a remarkable job in showing the students what it means to work with elemental magic."

They lapsed into silence, Hermione knowing all too well that he was only addressing a part of what she was implying but she let it go. This was, after all, something that she needed to figure out for herself.

She waved a gentle goodbye to him and walked through the castle toward her rooms, lost in thought.

That scream was still echoing through her ears. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had caused him pain when that was the absolute last thing that she had ever intended to do. Her mind was running in circles. Had it not been healing that she had sent his way? Had she somehow managed to channel the pain of loosing all of her loved ones into the spell and that had been what had hurt him so much?

She knew that it was more than a little crazy that she was even sorry that she had caused Riddle pain. He was the future Dark Lord for Merlin's sake, but she was. He had more than enough hurt in his past, she didn't want to become just one more person on his already substantially long list of people who had hurt him.

Hermione huffed a sigh to the dimly lit corridor at her thoughts. She was getting no where with them and she knew it. There was only one way to see the effects of their battle together and that was just to watch him to see if there was any kind of change.

As she rounded the corner to her rooms she froze.

Some one was standing in the shadows.

With a careful movement she twisted her wrist to make sure that her wand was still in her sleeve... it was. Hermione relaxed her stance a little just in case the figure before her was a teacher and meant her no harm. The last thing she wanted to do was attack someone important and have to explain herself to the headmaster.

The figure moved out of the shadows and into the dim candlelight. Hermione's breath caught. It was Riddle.

He paused for a moment before moving towards her, eyes locking onto hers and holding her hostage. She searched his eyes, trying to see if there was any anger... anything that could tell her the true nature of his intentions in waiting for her here but she saw nothing. His eyes were the same calm fathomless black that they always were, his stance casual but confident.

"Riddle." She greeted softly, pleased that her voices revealed none of the unease that was swirling through her mind.

He stopped in front of her, looking down intently, seeming to take in her reactions to him. "Granger."

He was silent for a moment, searching her eyes for something. "What are you after."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Everyone is after something Granger, everyone has a motive to their actions so I'll repeat myself: What are you after."

"I'm not after anything Riddle."

"Don't lie to me."

She frowned at him in confusion. "I am not Riddle, I'm not after anything."

He moved forward, turning her as he walked, advancing till her back collided with the unforgiving stone wall. She inhaled sharply, taking in the sandalwood and cider that surrounded him. She should feel fear. Should be shoving him away and taking off down the hall before he did gods knew what to her but his scent was clouding her mind, making moving the last thing on her mind.

He moved in closer, resting his hands on either side of her head as he leaned forward, never breaking eye contact. "Your still lying Granger. I know you want something but the question now is do you even know it."

His voice was like a drug. His warmth melting any passing thought that she may have had for running.

He moved in till his lips were dangerously close to touching hers. "I know what it is that you want Miss. Granger." He whispered, the feel of his warm breath sending her into sensory overload. Her heart was pounding painfully in her chest. She fought to keep from panting in a desperate attempt to get oxygen to her rapidly clouding mind.

"I..." she faltered. She had no idea what she wanted to say. She had no thoughts in her mind that were coherent enough to even turn into a full sentence. Her eyes never left his as they became more and more unfocused, her eye lids dropping, mirroring his, an attempt to half shield herself from what she was sure he could see. What he was doing to her.

He ignored her attempt at speaking, tilting his head just enough to brush his parted lips against hers, dragging a ragged breath from her throat. She unconsciously followed the movement, following his lips as he pulled away slightly. He allowed her to follow the movement for a short moment before moving forward with a swiftness that she nearly missed, claiming her lips with an almost vicious force.

Hermione's mind went completely blank in that instant. Leaving nothing but Riddle and what he was doing to her.

He tilted his head slightly, forcing her head back against the wall, allowing him to deepen the kiss. Something broke loose inside of her and her hands went up to the front of his robes to pull him against her completely. She returned the kiss with just as much passion, feeling the growl that originated in him vibrate through her own chest.

His arms went around her crushing her frame against his. Fingers gripped the back of her robes, trailed down her spine, dug into her skin...

She moaned at the emotions that overwhelmed her. Nothing else in this time, in this place mattered. Only him. Only his lips, his breath, his tongue tangling flawlessly with hers, his embrace claiming her as he seemed to drink in her passion.

He broke the kiss only to run his lips over her jaw line, down her throat.

She could hear a whisper in her mind compelling her.

What do you want...

"You," she gasped through her clouded mind. She felt his hands on her waist, twisting into her robes. Skin against skin. Felt the pain of his nails cutting into her skin, drawing blood, a fresh spike of pleasure hitting her senses.

"My name." he growled in a two toned voice, his teeth nipping at her exposed collar-bone, ripping a moan from her throat.

"Tom-" she gasped. Hermione could feel him pull on her magic, his own flooding into her at an alarming rate. Warning bells were going off in her mind but she was too far gone to heed them.

"I always get what I want... Hermione..."

His magic overwhelmed her, compelling her actions as she dug her nails into his shoulder blades before she blacked out.

Hermione groaned, rolling over in an attempt to go back to sleep but her head was pounding in agony.

What happened last night? She blinked slowly as the question plagued her. It took her a moment... maybe two before she looked down and realized that she was resting on her bed still fully dressed. She stared at her clothes blankly for a moment before it came back to her... all of it.

She flew up out of the bed and immediately regretted it, nearly falling back down as a fresh wave of pain went through her head.

Oh he didn't...

"Riddle!" She stomped into the empty library on the war path. Clothes freshly changed and a rather strong headache potion liberally used. It may be five in the morning but she knew without a doubt that he would be there, just not particularly how she did.

"Sit down."

"I will not! I can't believe you think you can order me around like-"

"Sit. Down."

Unconsciously she dropped into the seat next to him, glaring at him the whole way.

"I am not an object Riddle-"

"Tom."

"You can't just bind me like some kind of animal! It's not right! People have free will! People have the right to choose! People-"

"Have coffee in the morning." He pushed the tray to her without looking up.

"Are you even listening to me?!"

"Hard not to."

"Tom be serious-"

"I'm always serious."

"Do you have any idea what this means?! That spell is barely legal-"

"Its legal."

"In marriages!"

He put the paper down, picking up his coffee and watched as she made her self a cup seemingly without realizing it. "For someone with such astounding natural magical ability, you don't listen to a singe thing your magic tells you do you?"

She looked at the finished coffee cup in shock. "Of course I do-"

"If you did we wouldn't be having this conversation. Our magic is perfectly matched. One half of a whole. What transpired last night would have happened naturally the longer you are in my presence, I simply decided to take care of it on my own terms."

"You didn't give me a choice."

"That was not your response last night. If you remember I asked you." He flashed her a wicked grin and her mouth fell open. Well Merlin's flowery socks be damned... Lord Voldemort had a sense of humor.

"I was... under the influence..."

"That's your story and your sticking to it."

"Tom... you realize what this means... in the eyes of the wizarding world... we are married. You don't even know me... until yesterday you had barely said five words to me."

"I know you more than you realize." He leaned forward in his seat, the tips of his fingers tracing the top of his mug. "It doesn't take words to know someone. When you walked through the doors of the Great Hall I felt the magical signature pulling on my own. I know that you bury yourself in work so you don't have to face the world around you. I know that you spend every waking minute in here to work yourself beyond exhaustion, something that people do when they are unwilling to face their own thoughts. I know that during that duel last night you simultaneously held a barrier up around us without even knowing it to protect the students from our power, that shows your willingness to sacrifice your own safety by taxing your strength to keep complete strangers safe.

I know that the raw destructive power that I threw at you last night was enough to level the castle and everything else within a sixty foot radius, but instead of deflecting it or trying to avoid it you drew it into yourself without a second thought and changed it, sending it back at me as a pure healing force that was just as powerful. I'm still trying to take stock of how much of me was altered under that assault. I know that you have more than enough strength of will to resist me last night but you didn't... which means that you're not as opposed to this situation as you want me to believe.

I know that the way you duel can only have come from the kind of experience of fighting in a war. I know the hallow.. empty look in your eyes only comes from seeing death... and dealing it.

Now... what was it you were saying about me knowing nothing about you?"

She was stunned...

Hermione had greatly underestimated him... foolishly taken his silence for disinterest.

Their conversation whispered through her mind, of dealing with the devil and expecting to come out with the upper hand. She had tried to dance with the devil... and lost. Spectacularly.

But as he turned his dark eyes on her, she wondered if love was such a long shot. In so many ways he was the shadow of herself. In every way that she worked to make the right decisions, to stand up for all that was good, he constantly toed the line between the excepted and the unforgivable. Such darkness called to her. It would be so easy to cloak herself in his shadows.

Could she love such a man?

Did she really even know what love meant?

Not the love of family and friends, she knew that like the back of her hand but this was different. This... this would mean that she would have to stand by him knowing who he was and what he was capable of becoming.

So lost in her thoughts... in Tom's eyes, she forgot her surroundings. forgot she was in the library. The other students would be filling in at any given time now. They already had... moving around their table, trading the latest stories and gossip.

Even when an argument broke out a ways away she didn't hear it. The two boys were getting more heated and the only warning she had was Tom's increasingly irritated look before the explosion of a spell hitting a line of tables sent Hermione crouching to the floor.

In that instant she wasn't in the library with Tom, looking into his eyes, contemplating a possible although crazy future. In thirty seconds or less she was back in a desiccated corpse of the Hogwarts castle. The explosions of a miss aimed spell hitting far to close for comfort. She could see them... all around her. Their vacant eyes staring where the ceiling should have been.

She was shaking. Her arms went over her head to shield herself for the falling debris she was sure was coming.

She tried to push the images from her mind forcefully. She had to get a grip... had to...

She never felt the warm weight of a cloak draping around her shoulders but the familiar smell of sandalwood and cider started to break through her consciousness.

As if from a great distance she started to recognize Tom's smell. She took a deep breath trying to pull her stability from the warmth of the cloak around her, to remember what was real, what was the here and now.

She felt a gentle touch of fingers under her chin lifting her head.

Tom...

She blinked and finally saw him again through the smoke. Her mind cleared enough to settle on two thoughts.

This... was not Lord Voldemort...

Who was this man...

He stood turning from her. She saw his shoulders go rigid. He seemed to suck in all the light around him and she shivered. Yet somehow felt heartened at the sight. That... that was the reaction of the man that she expected. Her gaze shifted to the students around them, catching the terrified looks on their faces.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor and Slytherin... each." He almost purred at them and they flinched, not so much at the punishment as the tone in his voice. "Get. Out."

The change was immediate. The guilty students fled from him as if the hounds of hell snapped at their heals.

Hermione watched in silence as he lowered his head. His shoulders lifted softly with his slow intake of breath, the dark power dissipated with his movement, and he lifted his head as if gazing at the ceiling. He twisted his arm and flicked his wand into his hand, half halfheartedly waiving it to right the tables and chairs that had been upset in the confrontation.

Seeming to settle himself he turned back to her kneeling again and raising his eyes slowly to meet hers.

"It seems I was mistaken..." he started softly, "you didn't just fight in the war, you were on the front lines."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Khajiit has wares of you have coin human...  
> ~~~~~~~~
> 
> It's already the time that you hold my mind, it's true
> 
> And I've been thinking bout what to say, or what to do
> 
> So you wanna be a man about it, do you?
> 
> And have you figured out all you wanted, have you?
> 
> In the middle of the night, all I think about is you
> 
> I trail in all your clouds of glory, it's true
> 
> So you wanna be a man about it, do you have to?
> 
> And have you figured out all you wanted, have you?
> 
> When your heart becomes a million different pieces
> 
> That's when you won't be able to recognize this feeling
> 
> You'll have me crying out, crying out for more
> 
> You'll have me crying out, crying out for more
> 
> Tough Love ~ Jessie Ware

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Im baaaaack! Wow its been forever...
> 
> I'm sorry for the crazy long wait and the short chapter, life has been crazy and I have found it difficult to actually sit down and getting any writing don-Pleasedontlookatmelikethat
> 
> I've been trying to sort out all my old notes and figure out where I want to take things now, I'm playing musical chairs with a number of different ideas but wanted to get out a short update to let you guys know that I am indeed working on this and will update again as soon as I work out the logistics of the next chapter which is going to be a beast. Probably the longest I have written yet, fingers crossed.
> 
> I wanted to thank those that took the time to review even though I was MIA, it was those wonderful reviews that helped me to remember the love I have for this story and how much I hated leaving it even if I had to at the time.
> 
> I'm sorry for any issues with editing this may have, I'm in a little bit of a rush to get it out before I have to go into work tonight and was eager to map out the next chapter so I could think about it while I worked.
> 
> Anyway, all my love and all the feels to the loyal fans of this who have stuck it out, I hope this will make you smile.
> 
> Much love

The days were slipping through Hermione's fingers. Still Tom acted as if nothing had changed.

As if her life hadn't been turned relentlessly on its head. As if she had not been bound to him body and soul.

He sat in his usual spot every day. wordless in his habitual musings.

She could feel the even ebb and flow of his magic flowing through her. His emotions rarely varied beyond boredom and passing irritation.

Hermione's own emotions were not so stable. Panic, fear, acceptance, hopelessness, all at war within her mind on a daily basis before finally leveling out to calm acceptance.

He didn't push. Didn't so much as ask even a passing question over her reaction to the spell that had torn up the library weeks ago now.

The snow was falling in a way that Hermione could only describe as picturesque that late afternoon that found her once again languishing in the library. Her work for Dumbledore lay finished on the table behind her. Her arms crossed underneath her chin as she watched silently out the window.

Christmas was approaching fast. Tomorrow was the last day for all classes then she would have weeks reserved for her own studies. Faust shuffled on the the sill next to her before settling back against her shoulder, eyes still shut in peaceful slumber. It was that kind of day, most the castle was shut in various classes, completing what ever exams they had left. A hush had fallen over, the snow dampening the ambient noises save for the gentle hiss of the candles surrounding the library.

Tom was in his usual spot somewhere behind her, his emotions so even that she suspected he was falling asleep, draped elegantly over his chair.

Hermione sighed gently, strangely content. After the vision that she had what seemed like a life time ago now, she suspected that she should have seen this coming.

Oh well.

There was little she could do about any of it now. All she could hope for was that Tom would have a different future, one that wouldn't put her in a terrible position. The more she thought on her vision though the more she realized that it was extremely likely.

Hermione worked an arm out from under her to stroke Faust. He made a soft cooing noise, leaning in closer to her.

She had so much to do, so much to accomplish thanks to her demanding studies, there was so little time to think. So little time to work over everything that had been happening. Life seemed like a whirlwind, one minute she was running from death, the next she was thrown into impossible situations with the man that had caused all of it.

So often she missed the little things in life, all the little human interactions that she used to have on a regular basis. She spoke even less unless she had to. That was a small thing that she didn't really mind as much. Less situations to worry about her responses. To worry about how she would be received.

The sound of a door opening and closing pulled her out of her revery. Hermione looked over her shoulder to see a platinum blond man sauntering over to her table with all the self importance of a politician, flanked by two burly looking boys that had rather vacant expressions. She was hit with a strong sensation of deja vu. It had to be a Malfoy. Seems they breed pompous arrogance.

"Tom." The man said sharply, stopping a short distance away from Riddle.

"Malfoy." He said deeply, not bothering to look up from his book.

"We require an answer."

"Is that right..." Tom casually flicked his eyes up to Malfoy and flanking henchmen.

"Tell your dogs to leave, I despise being outnumbered, makes for too much stupid in the room."

Malfoy's face flickered between furious and his carefully constructed mask of control. Hermione tilted her head back towards the window desperate to hide her mirth.

Tom waited until the other two Slytherans' wandered out of the library before speaking, not bothering to give Malfoy the courtesy of eye contact.

"How many times must I repeat myself, I'm not interested in what ever ridiculous power play you or your father have come up with."

"Its not a request Tom, you will join or be dealt with."

"That would be extremely ambitious of you."

Hermione was biting her lip to the point of blood in her mouth in an effort to keep from laughing. She wasn't even concerned that he could feel her internal laughter as strongly as if she had been outright laughing.

Malfoy, clearly having heard enough verbal abuse, turned on his heal and stalked out of the library. She turned then, catching Tom's eyes in a silent acknowledgment. She was proud of him. He was better than them, better than that life. If her unintentional presence had influenced him enough to notice he was above that life and those people then she had no regrets.

She let all her emotions travel freely through there link, not bothering to put a damper on her emotions. She would have him know how proud of him she was. Hermione gave him a slight smirk before turning back to the window. His faint surprise washed over her, making her smile genuinely out to the grounds, her hand resuming her gentle pet of Faust.

"My dear, if you keep that up I fear your chicken may catch fire."

Hermione stiffed a chuckle as she looked up at Dumbledore. "Sorry professor, my mind is elsewhere." She shifted, picking up her fork to actually eat the chicken and put it out of its misery.

"Indeed. You know you can talk to me if you wish"

She sighed, "I cant quite decide if I want to work on becoming an animagus first or work more with elemental magic, I believe I may be close to a concept. Something that can be used in magical dueling but I need some more time to work out the details."

"Mmm." Dumbledore nibbled on a roll, looking pensively up at the night sky though the rafters. "I suggest getting the animagus work out of the way because once thats finished it is done, no more additions will be beneficiary. Working on a new theory however will take much time."

"I should have just asked you to begin with." Hermione grinned at him, picking up her pumpkin juice to take a slow sip.

"Now" He started, absently batting at a floating candle that was getting too friendly with his hat, " It will probably take you a day or two to finish the transformation, have you finished the texts I sent to you over the topic?"

"Yes, I think I will be ready to try at our next meeting."

"Excellent. We will meet then one last time before the holiday truly kicks off in wondrous splend-"

A crash cut the professors attention to the hall, pulling her own from their conversation. At the slytheran table someone had gotten up in enough rush to knock over numerous dishes. Shouting could be herd all the way up to the teachers table, all that Hermione was able to catch were words of blood traitor and mudblood before she saw Riddle descend on the confrontation like a hawk.

With fascination she watched as his mere presence caused the fighting to abruptly end. More words were exchanged, much too quiet for her to catch as far away as she was, and the table settled down again in a tense silence.

Dumbledore sighed heavily next to her. "Politics are starting to saturate even these walls the more that time passes." He looked down at his food sadly, going silent again.

Hermione's thoughts were elsewhere though, such displays were common from where she was from, that was not what held her attention. Across the hall she watched as Tom displayed effortless power and influence over his house with little more than a look. They clearly respected and feared him even if they didn't except him into their social groups.

It had her thinking... maybe his skills could be put to use in other ways, ways that would provide a constant challenge for his mind yet keep him from falling into the state that he had originally fallen victim to.

She would just need to place a hint of idea before him, let him lead himself to a different path.

Perhaps this called for intellectual conversations that she longed to have with him, she just needed to get past her own reservations to start a conversation with him.

With that thought in mind she started planing topics to bring to his attention when next they met. She just hoped this worked.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: And Faust is just done... just so done... because he has waited eleven bloody chapters for the two of them to just get on with it but the author is too worried about 'development' (tho the author is starting to agree with him now...)  
> ~~~~~~~~
> 
> "Sometimes when I look at you,
> 
> I feel I'm gazing at a distant star.
> 
> It's dazzling,
> 
> but the light is from tens of thousands of years ago.
> 
> Maybe the star doesn't even exist any more.
> 
> Yet sometimes that light seems more real to me than anything."
> 
> ― Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So this took longer than I thought it would to get out. This is a huge turning point for the story and I wanted to make sure I got it right. Not to mention it will be setting up the next five chapters.
> 
> Thank you so much for the reviews! Please continue to leave them they keep me going on this long wild journey.
> 
> As some of you pointed out, I am aware of the issues that are still running rampant though the earlier chapters. My dear beloved sister has agreed to beta this for me after failed attempts to get in touch with reviewers that had expressed interest in beta-ing this story. She will be wading through my cheerful slaughter of the English language and fixing it for everyone's viewing pleasure.
> 
> I had expected this chapter to be longer but I decided to break it up since it was already taking me so long to work out the logistics of this part. We will see how long the next chapter ends up turning out.
> 
> I really can't even begin to thank you all enough for the support you give me, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Hermione forced her eyes open, rolling onto her side halfheartedly. Her bed was just much too comfortable that morning. Exhaustion was pulling at her more than it ever seemed to have in a long while.

Now that classes were nearly done for the term, all those late nights of studying and working were finally catching up to her. All the stress, all the work that Dumbledore had assigned to her. Everything that had happened with Tom.

She sighed rolling onto her back, a slow unsteady hand threading through her hair, pushing it back off her face. She had spent so long last night agonizing over what to talk to him about, so distracted that she had pulled an irate Faust in to cuddle him against her chest.

Bless his little heart, he had put up with it, accepting her numerous apologies when she had realized what she was doing, putting him back on the couch next to her and smoothing his feathers back down.

She relaxed back into the fluffy mattress, letting her head sink into the pillow, she watched the morning light illuminate dust drifting lazily through the air.

The only thing that she could think of last night before she had finally collapsed into her bed was her theories. What better topic to discuss with him than her own work. She might get some valuable ideas.

Groaning with the effort, she pulled herself out of bed, blinking at her room in a daze. She should get up and head to the library. Tom was probably already there, being the ridiculous early riser that he was.

Merlin only knew when that man slept. If he slept.

Hermione shuffled out of bed and started to pull herself together. Faust was looking as groggy as she felt when she walked into her sitting area, spying him perched on the back of her couch again. He pried open an eye long enough to see her yawn at him before closing it again.

She had an overwhelming urge to curl up on her couch and join him.

"Morning my dear." She mumbled, going over to her desk. Mail had already arrived it seemed... was probably later than she thought.

One was a confirmation of her subscription to the daily prophet, informing her that she would receive her first issue tomorrow. The last was a formal invitation to Slughorn's Christmas party. She bit back a groan. That was an event she rather hoped she could skip. She threw the invitation back on her desk, hoping that maybe she could just forget she ever received it.

Hermione twisted her hair up into her usual bun and threw her notes into her bag. She can do this. She can talk to him. He wasn't going to set her on fire for having an intellectual discussion. She stifled her mirth along with her stress, heading out of her rooms absentmindedly.

The halls were almost empty as she wove her way through them. Most were probably in Hogsmeade, celebrating the end of the term and end of exams. The thought was rather hallow as it drifted through her mind.

She forcefully pushed the emotions into the back of her mind. Nothing was going to bring that past back. She had a new life now.

She rounded the corner into the library, spotting Tom in his usual spot. Just seeing him had the power to take her breath away. Even more so than when she had first arrived. She shook her head, took a deep breath, and plunged ahead.

It could have been a graceful entrance... should have been. But her foot caught on her usual chair and she hit the floor.

Of course...

She vaguely wondered if she just continued to lie there that he would forget that she came in... then the floor could just... devour her.

Then she saw the chair slowly pull out of its own accorded.

Merlin's beard...

Hermione didn't think it was possible to be sarcastic without a word.

But somehow, he managed.

Lying on her back she rolled her eyes to the ceiling. Well, was she a Gryffindor or not.

Ignoring her mortification, she leapt to her feet and cleared her throat.

"Morning Tom." She said in her most official voice.

"You really should forgo basic motor movements until you've had caffeine." His velvety voice replied as he lifted his own conjured cup of coffee.

"Well we can't all be disturbingly graceful straight out of bed." She muttered under her breath, dropping her bag forcefully onto the table and slumping into the chair he had wandlessly pulled out for her. "I have a theory for you."

"If its whatever you fretted over all night keeping me awake then please."

She flushed and looked at him closely. He really did look exhausted.

Oops.

She always forgot about the bond when she was wrapped up in her own thoughts.

"Sorry about that..."

His eyebrows rose slightly and she frowned, apparently an apology was the last thing he was expecting.

"Its related to the elemental magic we worked with." She pulled her leather bound journal out and flipped it open, turning to some charts she had drawn up, as well as theory's on energy levels.

Hermione saw him calmly sit down his newspaper and coffee cup, a spike of interest running through her that was not her own.

"Given the nature of our bond I wondered what kind of magical defenses would be possible in a dueling situation."

He looked over the charts and replied absentmindedly. "Our bond isn't very strong."

It certainly felt strong to her... she gazed at him in mild disbelief. He looked up into her eyes, a hand gently tracing the lip of his coffee cup. "A bond is only as strong as you let the other person in."

Hermione frowned. Well it made sense. She really hadn't thought on it much. But... he hadn't let her in any more than she had him. Mistrust. Wariness perhaps. Why would he have any reason to trust her at all, considering he was notorious for trusting no one but himself. Had anyone taken the time to trust him?

No.

Trust was earned, only actions could prove that person worthy. Was he worthy of her trust?

In this time, the man that he was now, he had don't nothing to truly hurt her, nothing that wasn't sanctioned in their duel under the protective eyes of their professors.

Even the bond had been inevitable, she knew that even if her temper wanted to think otherwise at the time. From what she could see, around her he was just prone to anger and rampant sarcasm.

She wondered.

The only way to gain his trust, to become a foundation for him and even... maybe... a reason to live would be to show him that his actions were gaining her trust.

His eyes were boring into hers as if waiting for her to argue with him.

Taking that last step she took a calming breath and closed her eyes, turning inward to seek the source of their bond.

Hermione could feel his magic intertwining with her own, but... his soul was still wrapped and protected in his magic, distant from her own. She could feel the deep rhythm of his very being swirling with hers and she wondered.

Out of necessity she located all memory's that could cause a catastrophe in this time period and manually locked them in a black box, dropping it forever into the lake of her inner mind. With a since of finality she froze over its surface forever. What mattered was now. She would see this through with all the fervor and dedication she once gave to her old life. She would give this time, this place, no less than she had given then. Maybe... just maybe it would be enough to change the terrible future that she escaped.

Turning her attention back to the bond with a new determination, she sought out the ruthless inferno of his soul. Throwing down her last barriers, she embraced it gently with her own, pulling him in to herself to merge that last distance with a gentleness she reserved for those closest to her.

The change was immediate, jarring, distantly she herd a crash... a ragged intake of breath.

Hermione breathed deeply and started to knit their souls together knowing that she might very well be writing her own death sentence.

His fire and earth interwove seamlessly with her own ice and mist. When she finally encountered his walls an unbearable agony ripped through her. Emptiness, abandonment, so alone... unwanted.

Foreign emotions threatened to pull her under, but she calmed herself, finding her own inner peace and began to gently dismantle his walls. She took her time focusing on leaving acceptance and understanding in the place of every barrier she encountered.

She distantly heard sounds like a wounded animal and felt him instinctively trying to rip himself away from her, but she held his soul with absolute certainty, continuing as if he wasn't fighting her in wounded panic.

His struggling eventually weakened, his resistance loosing fervor at her lack of maliciousness, his own energy slowly draining.

With the absence of his fighting the last pieces of their being fell into place seamlessly. Her own peace and tender emotions now flowing freely into Tom.

Hermione carefully turned her focus back into her conscious body and slowly opened her eyes.

Tom was away from the table pressed back against a bookshelf. Chair upended a good distance away. His eyes were wild, glazed and unfocused, rolling in an animistic panic. His teeth were bared in a feral snarl, black hair falling unheeded into his face. Every inch of him was rigid, his breath tearing from his lungs frantically.

As if she was facing a wild animal, she relaxed her body and placed her hands palms up on the tale between them, silent, waiting.

Seconds turned into minutes but she never moved an inch, never uttered a word. Slowly his eyes began to focus and his breathing gradually came down. She felt his panic raging through her eventually lessen. Black eyes locked with brown.

"You... should not... have been able... to do that..."

His voice was rough, gravely, as he forced the words out. She said nothing, just watched as his hand unsteadily raked his hair back off his face.

She could feel him shutting himself down again, putting that iron control back over his emotions. Knowing that Hermione would feel what he was doing, he tore his gaze from her, looking blankly out of the window.

"Maybe." She finally spoke, her voice no more than a whisper. "It didn't feel so impossible at the time."

Tom didn't reply and after a moment of silence, his head fell back against the book shelf and he barked a humorless laugh.

"Alright fine, now that you've just recklessly rendered my counter argument completely invalid, lets hear this theory of yours."

He flicked his wrist, wandlessly righting his chair, sitting across from her with is usual grace.

Tom pulled out his wand, refreshing his coffee before turning his attention back to her. She grinned. With both of their minds working together in perfect harmony, she thrilled at the prospect of what they could create. What they could become.

The game was on.


End file.
